Sermons translated from the original French of the late Rev. James Saurin, pastor of the French church at the Hague

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SERMONS

TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH

OF

THE LATE REV. JAMES SAURIN,

PASTOR OF THE FRENCH CHURCH AT THE HAGUE,

BY ROBERT ROBINSON.

VOLUME IV.
ON CHRISTIJN MORALITY.

THE FIFTH EDITION.

LONDON:

Printed by R. Edwards, Crane Court, Fleet Street,

FOR W. BAYNES, 54, PATERNOSTER ROW,
1812.

THE

PREFACE

hj^HIS volume is a sketch of christian morality, such
as the sermons of Mr Saurin afford. Had the au-
thor drawn them up with a particular design of exhi-
biting a full view of the subject, he would have assort-
ed ahd arranged ideas, which now lie dispersed and in-
termixed. However, we trust the arrangement will
appear neither improper nor unedifying.

There are two general opinions among divines con-
cerning the origin of morality and religion. Some
suppose, that all the knowledge which the world ever
had of these subjects, was at first revealed, and hath
been continued to this day by tradition. Others, on
the contrary, think, that v» ithout revelation men may,
and actually doi by the mere exercise of their natural
powersj discover the being of a God, and the consequent
obligations of men. Both classes, however, affirm,
that revelation gives force to moral duties, and so u
essential to the practice of real virtue.

This is not the place to enter into disputes; we will
content ourselves with a few plain remarks on the na-
ture and obligations of men, and oii the moral influ-
ence Of the gospel ; and, for this purpose, we will di-
vide the subject into three parts, and consider first
nature ; secondly obligation *, and lastly motive.

]. Nature. There is hardly a word in the English
language of m.ore vague and indeterminate meaning
than the word nature. In this place I mean by it the
native state, properties, and peculiarities of men. If
man be a creature consisting of soul and body ; if each

VOL. IV, '^ A hath

VI PREFAGE.

hath properties; pgwers, or faculties, peculiar to itself,
obligation to employ these to the ends for which they
were intenfled by the Creator, must necessarily follow.
Ancient philosophy, therefore, connected together
the natural with the moral state of man, and reasoned
from the one to' the other., ^Vlthoiit superior infor-
mation by revelation from God, there is no other way
of determining' what men are, or are not expected to
perform.

It would be easy to lose ourselves in metaphysicat
speculations concerning the nature, the operations, and
the duration of the soul ; and it v/ ould be as easy to
lose ourselves, in attempting;' precisely to determine,
among an infinite number of feelings, ideas, percep-
tions-, aversions, sensations, and passions, where the last
poner of body ends, and v/here the first operation of
ripirjt begins. Pcrha[)s we are to expect only a gene-
ral knowledge of* such subjects. That the happiness of
both depends on a certain harmony between thought
and action is beyond a doubt ; and that in a life made
up of a course of thinking and acting, thinking ought
to precede action, is equally clear. To act is to do
something ; and every intelligent creature ought to do
whatever he does for a reason. In the nature of man,
then, avoiding all perplexing refinements, and con-
fining our views to plain and useful observation, there
are three things considerable : happiness, the end of
men's actions; ad io7z^, the means of o!)taining the
ond^; and reason, which discovers, selects, and enfor-ces-
••ules of uniting the means witli the end.

2. OBLir.ATroN. We divide this article into two
parts, ohUgation, and sense of obligation. We begin
with the first. Ey exercising our reason to find out
proper means o{ obtaining hcr^jpiness, we collect a sef
of ideas concerning the duties of life,, and putting
thes^ together, avc call tl>c collection morality. As
this collection consists of a great variety of duties, or
actions p7-oper to obtain liappiness> we find it conve-
nient

PREFACE. Vii

njent to divide them into several classes, and as each
class contributes its share towards the j)roduction of
the general end, happiness, we consider the whole in
the light of obligation ; for every creature is obliged
to seek its own happiness, and it is natural to man to
do so.

The condition of man in rcgar4 to the Supreme
Being, his Creator, is that of absolute dependence : and
hence comes the first distiiijution of the duties of life
into a class called natural theologij : theologij, because
God is the object of our contemplation, and natural
theology, because the duties to be done in regard to
God are such, and such only as are discoverable by
our observing and exercising our reason on the works
of nature. By considering ourselves, we find a second
class of ideas, which make up what is called moral
philosophy i or more properly moral iheology ; and in this
we place the rules by which man conducts himself to
become virtuous, in order to become happy. Extend-
ing our views a little further, and taking in proper
notions of the various situations in life, to which men
are subject, and the various connections which we ne-
cessarily have in the v^^orld, we perceive a set of gene-
ral principles just and useful, and all necessary to the
happiness of these situations and relations ; and hence
comes a third branch of morality, culled genera I j^olicij,
or common prudence. The next exertion of thinking
and reasoning regards nations, and to this belongs a
large class of ideas, all tending to public prosperity
and felicity ; national policy is, therefore, a fourth
branch of morality, and it includes ail the actions ne-
cessary to govern a state, so as to produce civil order
and social happiness. To these, by extending our
thoughts yet further^ we proceed to add the law of na-
ture and the law of nations ; both which go to make up
the general doctrine of manners, which we call mora-

M man aim at jiappiness, if he consult reason by
A? what,

VIU PREFACE.

v/hat means to acquire it, if he be naturally impelled
to perform such actions as are most likely t6 dbtaiii
that end, he will perceive that the reason of each duty
is the obligation of it. As far, then, as man is govern-
ed by reason, so far do th he approve of the bond or obr
ligation of performing the duties of life.

Let us -attend to sense o/* obligation. Should it ap-
pear on e:\amination, and that it will appear on the
^lightest examination is too evident, that the senses of
the body irritate the passions of the heart, and that
both, conspiring together against the dominion of
reason, become so powerful as to take the lead, reason
will be perverted, the nature and fitness of things
disordered, improprieties and calamities introduced,
and, consequently, the great end, happiness, annihi-
lated. In this case, the nature of things would remain
what it was, obligation to duties would continue just
the same, and there would be no change, except in the
order of actions, and in- the loss of that end, happiness,
which order would have produced.

This speculation, if we advert to the real state of
things, will become a fact fully established in our
judgments: True, the first branch 'of morality is na-
tural theology^ ; but have mankind in general, in all
wges and countries, sought rational happiness in wor-
r hipping the One great wSupreme? Whence, then, is
idolatry, and whence that neglect of the Father of
universal nature, or what is worse, that direct opposi-
tion to him ? Morality, we grant, hath always been,
as it yet continues to be, beautifully depicted in aca-
demical theses ; professors of each branch of literature
fiave successively contributed to colour and adorn the
subject ; and yet, in real life, neither the law of nature
nor that of nations, nor that of private virtue, or
public policy, hath been generally obeyed ; but, on
the contrary, by crimes of all descriptions, the whole
earth hath been filled pith violence^ Gen. vi. 11, IS,
Al^s ! wiiat is the life of each individual but a succession
. ' >. . of

PREFACE. 13C

bf mistakes and sins ? What the histories of families,
nations, and great monarchies, but narrations of injus-
tice and woe ? Morality, lovely goddess, was a paint-
ing of exquisite art placed in proper light in a public
gallery for the inspection and entertainment of con-
noisseurs ; but she was cold, and her admirers unani-
mated : the objects that fired their passions had not
her beauty, but they were alive. In one word, ohliga-
Hen to virtue is eternal and immutable ; but sense of
obligation is lost by sin.

3. Motive. We will not enter here on that difficult
question, the origin of evil. We will not attempt to
wade across that boundless ocean of difficulties, so
full of shipwrecks. Evil is in the world, and the per-
mission of it is certainly consistent with the attributes
of God. Our inability to account for it is another
thing, and the fact is not affected by it* Experiment
hath convinced us, tha-t Revelation, along with a thou-
sand other proofs of its divinity, brings the irrefra^^able
evidence of motive to obedience ; a heavenly present,
and every way suited to the condition of man !

It would be endless to enumerate the motives to
obedience, which deck the scriptures as the stars adorn
the sky : each hath been an object of considerable
magnitude to persons in some ages and situations :
but there is one of infinite magnificence, which eciii^ses
all the rest, called the sun of righteousness ^ I mean, Je-
sus Chris^. In him the meekness of Moses, and the pa-
tience of Job, the rectitude of the ten commardments,
and the generosity of the gospel, aie all united , and
him we will now consider a moment in the light of
motive to obedience.

By considering the prophecies which preceded his
advent, and by comparing his advent vvith those pro-
phecies, we are im.pelled to allow the divinity of his
mission. This is one motive, or one class of motives
to moral obedience. By observing the miracles which
he wrought, we are obliged to exclaim with Nicode-

VOL. IV. A 3 mils,

X PREFACE.

mus, No man can do what thou doest, except God he with
him. This is a second class of motives. By attend-
ing to his doctrines we obtain a third set of powerful
and irresistible motives to obedience. His example
affords a fourth, for his life is made up of a set of
actions, all manifestly just and proper, each by it^
beauty commending itself to every serious spectator.

This moral excellence, this conformity to Jesus
Christ is the only authentic evidence of the truth of
our faith, as the apostle Paul teaches us with the ut-
most clearness in the thirteenth chapter of the first
Epistle to the Corinthians. Faith and practice, in the?
christian religion, are inseparably connected ; for as
there can be no true morality without taith in the
doctrines of Christ, so there can be no true faith with-
out christian morality; and it is for this reason chiefly^
that we should be diligent to distinguish the pure doc-
trines of relevation from human explications, because
a belief of the former produces a holy conformity to
the example of Christ ; while an improper attachmenti
to the latter leaves us where zeal for the traditions of
the fathers left the .Jews. We have treated of this at
large in the preface to the third volume, and it is need-
less to enlarge here. Grace be with all them that love
otq- Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Amen.

CONTENTS

^Yw, ^v

CONTENTS

THE FOURTH VOLUME.

SERMON I. ^

The Necessity of Universal Obedience.
James ii. 10.

Pa^e 1.5

SERMON II.

The Great Duties of Religion,
Matthew xxiii. 23.

Page 39

SERMON III.

The Small Duties of Religion,
Matthew, xxiii. 23.

Page 63

SERMON IV.

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.
Revelation xxi. 7; 8-

Page 81
SERMON

:^ii CONTENTS*

SERMON ¥•

God's Controversy with Israel.
MiCAH vr. 1,2,3.

Page 10^

SERMON VI.

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity.
Proverbs xiv. 34.

Page 141

SERMON VII.

The Lives of Courtiers.
2 Samuel xix. 32 — 39.

Page US

SERMON VIII.

Christian Conversation.

COLOSIANS iv. 6.

Page 20^

SERMON IX.
The Duty of Giving Alms.

LUKEXi. 41.

Page 229

SERMON

CONTENTS. ;jdfi

SERMON X.

Christian Heroism.
Proverbs xvi. 32.

Page 26S

SERMON XL

Christian Casuistry.
Proverbs, iv. 26^

Pa^ 28^

SERMON XII.

The Necessity of Progressive Reh'gion,
1 Corinthians ix. 26, 27.

Pa^ SOB

SERMON XIII.

The Moral Martyr.
Psalm cxix. 4.

Page 337

ALSO,

An Essay on the Conduct of David at the Comt
of Achish, king of Gath.

1 Samuel xxL

Page 353

SERMON

x~-

SERMON 1.

The Necessity of Universal Obedience^

James ii. 10.

Whosoever shall keep the whole laWy and yet offend iit
one pointy he is guilty of all.

My Brethren,

"VX^ ERE I obliged to give a title to this epistle, from
which I have taken my text, to distinguish it
from the other books of our sacred canon, I would call
it the paradoxes of St James, It should seem, the
apostle had no other design in writing than that of
surprizing bis readers by unheard-of propositions. In
the first chapter he subverts that notion of religion »
which is generally received both in the world and the
church. To adore the God of heaven and earth, ta
receive his revelation, to acknowledge his Messiah, to
partake of his sacraments, to burn with zeal for his
worship, this is usually called religion. No, says St
James, this is not religion ; at most this is only a small
part of it : " Religion consists in visiting the fatherless
and widows in their affliction, and in keeping himself
unspotted from the world," ver. 27. In the second
chapter he seems to take pains to efface the grand
character of a-christian, and of Christianity itself, and
to destroy this fundamental truth of tlie gospel, " that
man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law,"
Rom. iii. 28. " No," says he, " man is not justified by
faith only ; Abraham our father was justified by works,"

chap.

is The Necessity/ of Universal Ohediencc,

chap. ii. 24, 21. and all christians are justified by
works. In another pkce, St James seems to place all
religion in some minute and comparatively inconsi-
derable articles, or, what comes to much the same, to
teach, that the omission of some comparatively small
duty renders the most pure and solid piety of no ac-
count. Levity of conversation is one of these articles.
How different, my brethren ! is the morality of the
scriptures from the morality of the world ! We often
hear high encomiums of some people in company.
Observe that man, say they, what a pattern of piety
is he ! The church doors are hardly opened before he
l-ushes into his seat with eagerness and transport. In
approaching the Lord's table he discovers by every
look and gesture a heart all inflamed with divine love.
When his shepherds were smitten, and the sheep scat-
tered, the most difficult sacrifices became easy to hin^.
Country, family, titles, riches, he left all with pleasure
for the sake of following the bloody steps of Jesus
Christ in his sufferings. He can be reproved for no
more than one little inadvertence, that is, he has a
levity of conversation. But what says St James df
this man, who seems to have a right of precedence in
a catalogue of saints ? What does he say of this man,
so diligent to attend public worship, so fervent at the
Lord's sapper, so zealous for yeligion ? He says, this
man has no religion at all ; " If any man among you
seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, this
man's religion is vain," chap. i. 26.

But without attending to all the paradoxes of St
James, let us attend to this in our text. Here is a
principle that seems more likely to produce despair in
our hearts than to promote virtue ; a principle which
seems to aim at no less than tlie exclusion of the great-
est saints on earth from heaven, and to oblige Mose&j
Elias, David, Paul, and other such eminent men to
exclaim, " Who then can be saved !" iMatt. xix. 25.
This principle is, that to sin against one article of the

divine

The Necessity of Universal Obedience. 17

divine laws is to render one's self guilty of a breach of
them all. Whosoever shall keep the ivhole law^ and yet
offend in one point, he is guilty of all, , '

That you may the better enter into the spirit of om'
text, we have three sorts of reflections to propose to
you. By the first we intend to fix the meaning of our
apostle's proposition, and to clear it from all obscurity.
Our second class of reflections will be applied to en-
force the sense that we shall give the text. The last
will characterise those sinners who live in this dread-
ful state, who, by habitually offending in one point,
render themselves guilty of an universal subversion of
the whole law of God ; and here we shall direct you
how to use the text as a touchstone to discover the
truth or falsehood of your faith, the sincerity or hy-
pocrisy of your obedience*

I. Let us fix the sense of our apostle's proposition,
and for this purpose let us answer two questions,
1 . What kind of sin had St James in view when he
said. Whosoever shall keep the ivhole law, and yet offend
in one point? 2.Howdid heiaean^that,bj offending i?i one
point, the offender was guilty of violating the whole law f

The meaning of the first depends partly on what
precedes the text. The apostle had been endeavour-
ing to inspire christians with charity ; not with that
partial charity, which inclines us to pity and relieve
the miseries of a few distressed neighbours, but with
that universal love, which induces ail the disciples of
Christ to consider one another as brethren, and which,
because all are united to God, unites all to one another,
and teacheth each to consider all as one compact body,
of which love is the bond.

The apostle enters into this subject by this exhorta-
tion. My brethren! have not the faith of our Lord Jesus
Christ, the Lord of glory, with respect of persons, ch.ii. 1.
These words are rather diflficult : but one of the follov/-
ing senses, I think, must be given to them. 1. Instead

VOL. IV. B of

IS The Necessiii/ Of Univerml Ohedienee.

of translating, have not the faith, we may read,j2^(%e 7ici
of faith by appearance of persons ; that is to say. Do not
judge what faith christians have in Jesus Christ, wliom
God liath elevated to the higliest glory, by the rank,
which they occupy in civil society, by their attendants?,
and equipage, and habits. A man, who makes a very
mean and contemptible appearance, a man all in rags
is often a better christian than he, whose Christianity,
(so to speak.) is all set off with splendour, and grandeur,
and fortune.

Or rather, have not faith in the Lord of G lor ij by shew-
ing a partial regard for the appearance of persons; that is
to say, Do not imagine yourselves believers, w hile you
tegarcLthe appearance of persons. Do nOt imagine,
that true faith is compatible witli that meanness of
soul, v/hich makes people susceptible of very deep im-
pressions of esteem at seeing a parade of human gran-
deur ; do not suppose, that the soul of a good man must
necessarily prostrate itself before pomp, and annihilate
itself in the presence of great men; while he turns v/ith
disdain from the poor, infinitely greater for their piety
than others for their pomp. A christian believing in
Jesus Christ glorified, a christian persuaded that Jesus,
his head, is elevated to the highest degree of glory, and
hoping that he shall be shortly exalted to some degree
with liim ; a christian, in whose mind such ideas are
formed, ought not to entertain very high notions of
earthly things, he ought to esteem that in man, which
constitutes his real greatness, that immortality, which
is a part of his essence, those hopes of eternal glory, at
which he aspires, those efforts, which he is making to-
wards bearing the image of his Creator: such qualities
deserve esteem, and not the empty advantages of for-
tune.

The apostle, having established this general maxin\,
applies it to a particular case ; but there are some diffi-
culties in his manner of stating the case, as well as in
the maxim to which he applies it. If there come iinto

yonr

The Necessity of Universal Obedience. 19

your assembly a man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel ^
and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment; and ye
have respect to him that weare'h the gay clothing, and say
nntohim, Sitthouhere in a good place ; and say to the poor,
Standthou there, or sit here under my footstool: Are ye not
then partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil
thoughts f What assembly had the apostle in view here ?

Some think, he spoke of an assembly of judges, and
byre^/)(?cf, or appearance of persons, a spirit of partiality.
They say, these words of St James are synonimou.: to
those of God to Jewish judges by Moses, Thou shalt
not respect the person of the poor, nor honour the person
of the mighty: but in righteousness shalt fhou judge thy
neighbour. Lev. xix. 1 .5. Ye shall not respect per so-ns in
judgment: bid ye shall hear the small as ivell as the great,
Deut. i. 16, 17. They confirm this opinion by quot-
ing a canon of the Jews, which enacts, that when two
persons of unequal rank appear together in the San-
hedrim, one shall not be allowed to sit while the other
stands ; but both shall either sit together, or stand
together, to avoid every shadow of partiality.

But, perhaps, our apostle spoke also of religious as-
semblies, and intended to .inform primitive christians,
that where the distinctions of princes and subjects,
magistrates and people, were not known, there the
rich would affect state, aspire to chief places, and
gratify their senseless vanity by placing the poor on
their footstools, in order to make them feel their in-
digence and meanness. However the apostle might
mean, whether he spoke of juridical assemblies, or of
religious conventions ; of partial judgments, or of im-
proper distinctions in the church, it is plain, he in-
tended to preclude that veneration, which, in little
souls, riches obtain for their possessors, and that dis-
dain which poverty excites in such minds for those
whom providence hath exposed to it.

Among many reasons, by which he enforces his ex-
hortation, that, which immediately precedes the text,

2 h

20 The Necessity of Universal Obedience:

is taken from charity, or benevolence. If ye fulfil tJiis
royal km, according to the scripture. Thou shall love
thy neighbour as thyself ye do well. But if ye have
respect to persons, ye commit sin, and are convinced of
the law as transgressors. Then follow the words of
the text, for luhosoever shall keep the whole law, and
yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.

It should seem at first, from the connection of the
text with the preceding verses, that when St Jame&
says, Whosoever shall keej^ the whole law, and yet
offend in one poijit, he is guilty of all, he means, by
this one point, benevolence. However, 1 cannot tliink
the meaning' of St James ought to be thus restricted.
I rather suppose, that he took occasion from a particu-
lar subject to establish a general maxim, that includes
all sins, which come under the same description with
that of which he was speaking. On this account, after
he has said, Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and
yet offend in one porn f, he is guUty of all, he adds, jfor
he that said. Do not commit adultery, said also. Do not
kill; he adds another exam})Ie beside that of which he
had been speaking. Consequently, he intended not
only to speak of violation of the precepts of love ; but
also of all others, which had the same characters.

But in what light does he place this violation of the
precept of love ? He considers it as a sin committed
with full consent, preceded by a judgment of the mind,^
accompjinied vvith mature deliberation, and, to a cer-
tiiin degree, approved by Mm who commits it. All these
ideas are contained in tliesc words. Ye have respect to
■persons, ye are partial in yourselves, ye are judges of evil
thoughts, ye have despised the poor. What the apostle
affirms of love in particuljir, he affirms of all sins com-
mitted with the same dispositions. Every sin com-
jnitted with full consent, preceded by a judgment of
the niind, accompanied with mature deliberation :
eveiy sin that conscience is made to approve during the
commissions of it: every such sin is included in this

maxim

The Necessity of Universal Ohedience. 2i

maxim of our apostle, whosoever shall keep the whole
latVf and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.

In this manner divest the text of one vague notion,
to which it may seem to have given occasion. We ac
quit the apostle of the charge of preaching a melan-
choly,, cruel morality, and we affirm, for the comfort of
weak and timorous minds, that w^e ought not to place
among the sins here intended, either momentary faults,
daily frailties, or involuntary passions.

1 . By daily frailties I mean those imperfections of
piety, whicii are inseparable from the conditions of in-
habitants of this world, which mix themselves with the
virtues of the most eminent saints, and which, even in
the highest exercises of the most fervid piety, make
them feel that they are men, and that they are sinful
men. By daily frailties I mean wanderings in prayer,
troublesome intrusions of sensible objects,low exercises
of self-love, and many other infirmities, of which you,
my dear brethren, have had too many examples in
your own lives in time past, and yet have too much
experience in the tempers of your hearts every day.
Infirmities of this kind do not answer the black descrip-
tion which St James gives of the offence mentioned in
the text. A good man, who is subject to these frailties,
far from approving the sad necessity, that carries him
off from his duty, deplores it. In him they are not
conclusions from principles, laid down with full con-
sent ; they are sad effects of that imperfection, wiiich
God had thought proper to leave in our knowledge
and holiness, and which will remain as long as we con-
tinue to languish life away in this valley of tears. To
say all in one word, they are rather an imperfection
essential to nature, than a direct violation of the law.
2. We ought not to number 7nomentary faults among
the offences, of which it is said, Whosoever committeth
one is guilty of a violation of the Avhole law. Where
is the regenerate man, Avhere is the saint, where is the
saint of the highest order, v^l^o can assure himself* he

shall

22 The Necessity of Universal Obedience.

shall never fall into some sins ? Where is the faith so
firm as to promise never to tremble at the sight of
racks, stakes, and gibbets ? Where is that christian
heroism, vrhich can render a man invulnerable to some
fiery darts, with which the enemy of our salvation
sometimes assaults us ; and, (what is still more unat-
tainable by human firmness) where is that christian
heroism which can render a man invulnerable to some
darts of voluptuousness, which strike the tenderest
parts of nature, and excite those passions which are at
the same time the most turbulent and the most agree-
able ? A believer falls into such sins ocly in those sad
moments in which he is surprised unawares, and in
vviiich he loses in a manner the power of reflecting and
thinking. If there remain any liberty of judgment
amidst the phrenzy, he employs it to recal his reason,
which is fleeing ; and to arouse his virtue, that sleeps
in spite of all his efforts. All chained as he is by the
enemy, he makes efforts, weak indeed, but yet earnest,
to disengage himself. The pleasures of sin, even when
he most enjoys them, and while he sacrificeth his piety
and innocence to them, are embittered by the inward
remorse that rises in his regenerate soul. While he
delivers himself up to the temptation and the tempter,
he complains, 0 wretched man that I am ! who shall de-
liver me from the body of this death f Rom.vii.24. When
the charm has spent its force, when his fascinated eyes
recover their sight, and he sees objects again in their
true point of light, then conscience reclaims its rights ;
then he detests what he just before admired ; then the
cause of his joy becomes the cause of his sorrow and
terror^ and he prefers the pain, anguish, and torture o^
repentance, before the most alluring attractives of sin.
S. We will venture one step further. We affirm,
that gusts of involuntary passions ought not to be in-
cluded in the number of sins of v/hich St James saitb.
Whosoever ojjendeih in one point, he is guilty of all, God
pla^eth us in this world as in a state of trial. We ar^

all

The Xecessilij of Umversal Obedience. 23

all born with some passions, whicli it is our duty to at-
tack, and mortify ; but from which we sl>all never be
^ble to free ourselves entirely. The soul of one is
united to a body, naturally so modified as to incline
him to voluptuousness. Another soul has dis]X)sitions
naturally inclining it to avarice,pride,envy, or jealousy ,
It is in our power to resist these passions; but to have,
,or not to have them, when we come into the world,
doth not depend on us. We ought not always to
judge of our state by the enemy, whom we have to en-
rcounter : but by the vigMance with which we resist
him. In spite of some remains of inclination to pride,
we may become humble, if we endeavear sincerely and
heartily to become so. In spite of natural inclinations
to avarice, we may become generous by endeavouring
to become so, and so of the rest. Involuntary passions,
when we zealously endeavour to restrain them, ought
to be considered as exercises of our virtue prescribed
by our Creator ; and not as criminal effects of the ob-
stinacy of the creature. The sins, into a commission
of which they beguile us, ought always to humble us ;
indeed they would involve us in eternal misery, were
we not recovered by repentance after having fallen into
them : but neither they, nor transient offences, nor
daily frailties ought to be reckoned among those sins,
of ^vhich St James says, he who off'endeth in one pointy
is guiltif of all. The sins of which the apostle speaks,are
preceded by the judgment of the mind, accompanied
with mature deli])eration, and approved by conscience.
Thus we have divested the text cf one vague meaning
to which it may seem to have given occasion.

But in what sense may it be aiHrmed of any sin, that
he who offendeth in one poinijs gidit^ of all? Thenaturg
of the subject must answer this second question, anden-
able us to reject the false senses, that are given to the
proposition of our apostle. It is plain, St James nei-
ther meant to establisii an equality of sins, nor an equa-
lity of punishments. It is evident;, that as sins are

unequal

24 The Necessity of Universal Obedience,

unequal among men, so justice requires an inequality
of punishment. The man who adds murder to ha-
tred, is certainly more guilty than he who restrains
his hatred, and trembles at a thought of murder. He
whose hatred knows no bounds, and who endeavours
to asswage it with murder, will certainly be punished
more rigorously than the former.

What then was the apostle's meaning ? He probably
had two views, a particular and a general view. The
particular design might regard the theological system
of some Jews, and the general design might regard
the moral system of too many christians.

Some Jews, soon after the apostles' time, and very
likely in his days'% affirmed, that God gave a great
many precepts to men, not that he intended to oblige
them to the observance of all, but that they might
have an opportunity of obtaining salvation by observing
any one of them ; and it was one of their maxims,
that he who diligently kept one command, was
thereby freed from the necessity of observing the
rest. Agreeable to this notion, a famous Rabbif
expounds these words in Hosea,, Take away all iniquity,
and give good, that is, according to the false notion of
our expositor, pardon our sins, and accept our zeal for
one precept of thy law. What is still more remark-
able, when the Jews choose a precept, they usually
choose one that gives the least check to their favourite
passions, and one that is least essential to religion, as some
ceremonial precept. This, perhaps, is what Jesus Christ
reproves in the Pharisees and Scribes of his time, TVo ^in-
io you. Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ; for ye pay tithe
of mint, and anise, and cummin, and have omitted the
weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith ;
these ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other un-
done. Matt, xxiii. 23. Perhaps these words of our Sa-
viour may I>e parallel to those of St James. The
apostle had been recommendinsr love, and at length

^he

* See ^^Tiitby on James ii. 2. t Kimchi o\\ Hos. xiv. 2. Marg.

The Necessitij of Universal Obedience. 25

he tells the Jews, who, in the style of Jesus Christ,
omitted mercy ^ that whosoever should keep Hie whole law,
and yet offend in this one poi7it, would be guilty of all.

But, as we observed just now, St James did* not in-
tend to restrain what he said to love. If he had a par-
ticular view to the theological system of some Jews,
he had also a general view to the morality of many chris-
tians, whose ideas of devotion are too contracted. He
informs them, that a virtue incomplete in its parts, can-
not be a true virtue. He affirms, that he who resolves
in his own mind to sin, and who forces his conscience
to approve vice while he commits it, cannot in this
manner violate one single article of the law without
enervating the whole of it. A man cannot be truly
chaste without being humble, nor can he be truly
humble without being chaste. For the same reason
no man can deliberately violate the law that forbids
anger, without violating that which forbids avarice ;
nor can any man violate the law which forbids extor-
tion, without violating that which forbids impurity.
All virtues are naturally united together, and mutually
support one another. The establishment of one unjust
maxim authorizeth all unjust maxims. This is the
meaning of the proposition in our text, Whosoever of-
fendeth in one point is guilty of all.

Hitherto v, e have only explained the sense of our
text, it rem.ains novy to be proved. The proposition
of our apostle is founded on three principal reasons:
He, who sins in the manner just now described ; he,
whose mind resolves to sin, and who forces his con-
science to approve vice, while he commits it, sins
against all the precepts of the law, while he seems to
sin against only one. 1. Because he subverts, as far as
he can, the foundation of the law. 2. Because, although
he may not actually violate all the articles of the law,
yet he violates them virtually, I mean to say, his prin-
ciples lead to an actual violation of all the precepts of
the law. 3. Because we may presume, he, who vio-

late$

*26 The Necessity of XJniversal Obedience.

lates the law virtually, will actually violate it, wlieft
it suits him to do so. These three reasons establish the
truth of our apostle's proposition, and justify tjie sense,
that we have given it. The discussion of these three
reasons will be the second part of our discourse.

* — ^
II. He who violates one precept of the law in the

manner just now described, violates all ; because, first,
he subverts, as far as in him lies, the very foundation
of the law. This will clearly appear by a comparison
of vice with error, heresy with disobedience. There
are two sorts of errors and heresies ; there are some
errors which do not subvert the foundation of faith,
and there are other errors that do subvert it. If, after I
have honestly and diligently endeavoured to understand
a passage of scripture proceeding from the mouth of
God, I give it a sense different from that which is the
true meaning of it ; if I give it this sense, not because
I dispute the authority of an infallible God, but be-
cause I cannot perceive that it ought to be taken in
any other sense than that in Mhich I understand it, I
am indeed in an error, but bv falling* into this error I
do not subvert the foundation on which my faith is
built. I always suppose the authority and infallibility
of God, and I am ready to renounce my error as soon as
I am convinced that it is contrary to divine revelation.
But if, after it has been made to appear with irrefra-
gable evidence, that my error is contrary to divine re-
velation, and if, moreover, after it has been made to
appear that revelation came from God, I persist in my
error, then, by sinning against one point I hecovae guilty
of all, because, by denying one single proposition of re-
velation, I deny that foundation on which all other
propositions of revelation are built, that is, the infalli-
bility and veracity of that God who speaks in our
scriptures. I put in the place of God my reason, my
wisdom, my tutor, my minister, whomever or what-
ever determines me to prefer my error before that

truth,

The Kecessitij of Universal Obedience* 27

truth, which I am convinced is clearly revealed in a
book that came from heaven.

In like manner there are two sorts of vice*, some
w^hich do not subvert the foundation of our obedience
to the laws of God, and others that do. In the first
class are those sins which we have enumerated, daily
infirmities, transient faults, and involuntary passions.
In the second class ought to be placed those sins of de-
liberation and reflection, of which we just now spoke,
and which our apostle had in view. These sins strike
at the foundation of our obedience to the laws of God.

What is the ground of our obedience to the divine
laws ? When God gives us laws, he may be considered
under either of three Velations, or under all the three
together ; as a sovereign, as a legislator, as a father.
Our obedience to God, considered as a sovereign, is
founded on his infinite authority over us, and on our
obligation to an entire and unreserved submission to
him. Our obedience to God as a legislator is founded
on his perfect equity. Our obedience to God as a
Father is founded on the certain advantages which
they who obey his laws derive from them, and on a
clear evidence that because he ordains them, they
must be essential to our happiness. Now he who sins
coolly and deliberately against one single article, saps
these three foundations of the law. He is, thereforCa
guilty of a violation of the whole law.

He saps the foundation of that obedience which, is
due to God considered as a master, if he imagine, he may
make any reserve in his obedience ; if he say, I will sub-
mit to God, if he command me to be humble, but
not if he command me to be chaste ; and so on. He
saps the foundation of that obedience which is due to
God considered as law giver, if he imagine God is
just in giving such and such a law, but not in pre-
scribing such and such other laws ; if he suppose God
is just when he appoints him to educate and provide
/or an only son, but that he ceaseth to do right when

ke

28 The Necessity of Universal Obedience.

lie commands him to sacrifice him, addressing him in
this terrifying style, Take nowthif son, and offer him for
a burnt offering upon one of the monniains which I will
iell thee of Gen. xxii. 2. He subverts the foundation
of obedience to God as a father, if he suppose that
God hath our happiness in view in requiring us to
renounce some passions, but that he goes contrary to
our interests by requiring us to sacrifice some other
passions, which he may suppose can never be sacrir
heed without sacrificing at the same time his pleasure
and felicity.

He who sins in this manner, attributes to the ob^
jects which induce him to sin, excellencies that can
be in none but the Creator. He says. It is not God
who is my master, my sovereign : It is the world, it is
my company, it is my custom. He says, It is not
God who is just : Justice is the property of my pas-
sions, my anger, my vengeance. He says, It is not
God who is the source of my true happiness : it is my
gold, my silver, my palace, my equipage, my Dalilah,
my Drusilia. To offend in one point in this sense is to
be guilijj of all ; because it subverts the foundation
on v/hich our obedience is built. And this reason is
emphatically assigned by St James in the verses that
follow the text, Whosoever shall keep the whole law, and
yet offend in one point, he is gmliy of all, for, adds the
apostle, He that said. Do not commit adulter ij, said also,
Ik) not kill. Now if thou commit no adultery, yet if
thou kill, thou art become a transgressor of the law.

2. The man who offends in the manner that we
have described, he who in his mind resolves to sin,
and endeavours to force his conscience to approve vice
while he commits it, breaks all the precepts of the law,
because, whether he do actually ])reak them or not, he
breaks them virtually, and intentionally. He violates
precepts of generosity, but he does not fall into de-
bauchery. Why ? Is it because he respects the divine
Jaws y/hich prohibit debauchery ? No, but because,

not

The Necessity of Universal Obedience* 29

not being- alike inclined to both these vices, he enjoys
less pleasure in excess than in avarice. Could he tind
as much pleasure in violating the laws that prohibit
excess, as he finds in violating those which forbid
avarice, then, the same principle that impels him now
to an incessant, immoderate love of gain, would impel
him to drown his reason in wine, and to plunge him-
self into all excesses. By violating, then, laws command-
ing generosity, he violates, if not actually, yet virtually,
laws prohibiting debauchery. What keeps him from
violating the laws that forbid clamour and dissipation,
is not respect for that God who commands recollec-
tion, retreat, and silence : but he affects these, because
he has less aversion to retirement and silence, than he
has to noise, clamour, and dissipation. Had he as
much dislike of the first, as he has of the last, then
the same principle that now induces him to be always
alone, always either inaccessible or morose, would in-
duce him to be always abroad, always avoiding a
sight of himself by fleeing from company to com-
f)any, from one dissipation to another. As, there-
fore, he does not obey the law thai enjoins silence by
his perpetual solitude, so he virtually annihilates the
law that forbids dissipation ; and here again to offend
ill one point is to be giiilty of all.

In fine, he who offends in the manner, that we have
explained, he whose mind determines to sin, and vrho
endeavours to force his conscience to approve his prac-
tice, sins against all the precepts of the law, while he
seems to offend only in one point, because there is suf-
ficient reason to believe, he will some time or other
actually break those laws, which now he breaks only
rhtentionally. Here, my brethren, I wish each of you
would recollect the mortifying history of his own life,
and reflect seriously on those passions which succes-
sively took place in you, and which by turns exercise
their terrible dominion over all them who are not
entipely devoted to imiversal obedience. What pro-
ceeds

so The Necessity of Universal Obedience.

ceeds only from a change of circumstances, we readilr
take for a reformation of manners ; and we often fancy
we have made a great progress in holiness, when we
have renounced one vice, although we have only laid
aside this one to make room for another that seemed
opposite to it, but which was a natural consequence
of the first. What elevates you to-day into excesses
of ungoverned joy, is your excessive love of pleasure.
Now, it is natural to suppose this excessive love of
pleasure which elevates you into immoderate joy now
that the objects of your pleasure are within your
reach, will plunge you into depths of melancholy and
despair, when you are deprived of those objects.
That which induces you to-day to slumber in carnal
security, is your inability to resist the first impressions
of certain objects ; but, if you know not how to resist
to-day the impressions of such objects as lull you into
security, you will not know how to resist to-morrow
the impressions of other objects which will drive you
to despair ; and so this very principle of non-resistance,
if I may so call it, which makes you quiet to-day,
will make ypu desperate to-morrow. There is no
greater security for our not falling into one vice, than
our actvial abstinence from another vice. There is no
better evidence that we shall not practise the sins of
old men, than our not committing the sins of youth.
Prodigality is the vice of y©uth, and not to be profuse
in youth is the best security that we shall not in declin-
ing life fall into avarice, the vice of oldage^ Mayons
principle animate all your actions, a principle of obe-
dience to the laws of God ! then what keeps you from
haughtiness, will preserve you from meanness ; what
saves you from the seduction of pleasure, will preserve
you from sinking under pain ; what keeps you from
inordinate love to an only sop, while it pleased God to
spare him, will keep you from immoderate disquietude^
when God thinks proper to take him away. But a man,
who deliberately offends in one point, not only offends

intentionally

The Necessity of Universal Obedience. St

intentionally against all the articles of the law : but, it
is highly probable, he will actually violate all articles
one after another ; because, when universal esteem for
all the laws of God is not laid down as the grand prin-
ciple of religious action, the passions are not correct-
ed, they are only deranged, one put in the place of
another ; and nothing more is necessary to complete
actual, universal wickedness, than a change of vices
with a change of circumstances.

All this is yet too vague. We have, indeed, endea-
voured to explain, and to prove the proposition of our
apostJe ; but unless we enter into a more minute de-
tail, we shall derive very little advantage from this
discourse. Those of our auditors who have most rea-
son to number themselves with such as sin deliberate-
ly, will put themselves in the opposite class. The most
abandoned sinners will call their own crimes either
daily frailties, or transient faults, or involuntary pas-
sions. We must, if it be possible, take away this pre-
text of depravity, and characterise those sins which
v/e have named sins of reflection^ deliberation^ and ap-
pi'obation ; sins which place him who commits them
precisely in the state intended by our apostle ; he of
fends in one pointy and his disposition to do so renders
him guilty of total and vmiversal disobedience. This is
our third part, and the conclusion of this discourse.

III. St James pronounces in our text a sentence of
condemnation against three sorts of sinners. 1 . Against
such as are engaged in a Avay of life sinful of itself. 2.
Against such as cherish a favourite passion. 3. Against
persons of unteachable dispositions.

1 . Theij tvho are engaged in a way of life sinful of
itself are guilty of a violation of the whole law, while
they seem to offend only in one point.

We every day hear merchants and traders ingenuous-
ly confess, that their business cannot succeed unless
they defraud the government. We will not examine

whether

32 The Necessity of Universal Obedience.

whether their assertion be true ; we will suppose it to be
as they say; and we affirm, that a trade which necessari-
ly obliges a man to violate a law so express as that of
paying tribute to government, is bad of itself. That
disposition of mind which induces a man to follow it*
ought not to be ranked either with those human frail-
ties, transient faults, or involuntary passions, which we
have enumerated, and for which evangelical abate-
ments are reserved. This is a blow struck at legisla-
tive authority. What, then, ought a merchant to do,
who is engaged in a commerce which necessarily obli-
geth him to violate a law of the state concerning im-
post ? He ought to give up this commerce, and to quit
a way of living which he knows is iniquitous in itself-
If he cannot prevail with himself to make this sacri-
fice, all his hopes of being saved are fallacious.

We every day hear military men affirm, that it is
impossible to wear a sword with honour, without pro-
fessing to be always disposed to revenge, and to violate
all laws human and divine which forbid duelling. We
do not enquire the truth of the assertion, we suppose
it true. W^e do not examine, whether prudence could
not in all cases suggest proper means to free men from
a tyrannical point of honour ; or whether there really
be any cases, in which gentlemen are indispensibly o-
bliged, either to quit the army, or to violate the pre-
cepts that command us to give up a spirit of resent-
Vnent. We only affirm, that a military man, who con-»
jitantly and deliberately harbours a design of always a-
venging himself in certain cases is in this miserable list
of sinners, who, by offending in one point, are guiltif of
all. We do not affirm, that he would be in this guilty
condition, if he could not promise to resist a disposition
to revenge in every future moment of his life ; we only
affirm that he is guilty of a violation of the whole law,
if he do not sincerely and uprightly resolve to resist this
inclination. You cannot be a christian without having
a fixed resolution to seal the truths of the gospel with

your

The Necessity of Universal Obedience. S3

your blood, if it please providence to call you to martyr-
dom. You cannot, however, promise, that the sight of
racks and stakes shall never shake your resolution, nor
ever induce you to violate your sincere determination to
die for religion, if it should please providence to expose
you to death on account of it. It is sufficient for the
tranquillity of your conscience, that you have formed a
resolution to suffer rather than deny the faith. In like
manner, we do not affirm, that a military man is guilty
of the offience with which we have charged him, if he
cannot engage never to be carried away with an excess
of passion inclining him to revenge ; we only say, if he
coolly determine always to avenge himself in certain
cases, he directly attacks the authority of the lawgiver.
He ojfendeth in one point, and he is guiUij of all. If a
man cannot profess to bear arms without harbouring a
fixed intention of violating all laws human and divine,
that prohibit duellings even to those who receive the
most cruel affronts, either the profession of arms or the
hope of salvation must be given up. No man in the
army can assure himself that he is in a state of grace,
miless his conscience attests, that he will avoid, with
all possible circumspection, every case in which a ty-
rannical point of honour renders revenge necessary ;
an'd'that, if ever he be, in spite of all his precautions,
in such a case, when he must either resign his military
employments,- or violate the laws that forbid revenge,
he will obey the law, and resign his military honours.

It is too often s^en, that our relation to some offend^
ers inspires us with indulgence for their offences. This
kind of temptation is never more difficult to surmount
than when we are called to bear a faithful testimony
concerning the state of our brethren, who refuse to sa-
crifice their fortune and their country to religion and
a good conscience. But wiiat relation is so near as to
pre-occupy our minds to such a degree as to prevent our
considering the life of such a person, as it really is, bad
in itself ; or what pretext can be plausible enough to

VOL. IV, C authorise.

S4f The Necessity of Universal Obedietie^,

authorise it? We have sounded in their ears a thousand
times these thundering words of the son of God, Who^
soever shall be ashamed of vie and of my words ^ of him shall
the Son of man he ashamed, when he shall come in his own
glory ^ and in his Father'' s^ and of the holy angels, Luke ix.
26. He that loveth father or mother, son or daughter, and,
we may add, he that loveth houses or lands, ease, riches,
or honours, more than me, is not worthy of me^ Matth. X/
37. We have summoned them by the sacred promises
and solemn engagements, which some of them have en-
tered into at the table of the Lord, while they partook
of the significant symbols of the body and blood of the
Saviour, to devote themselves to the glory of God, and
the edification of his church. We have unveiled their
hearts, and shewn them how the artfulness of their in-
genious passions exculpated their conduct, by putting
specious pretexts in the place of solid reasons. We have
reproved them for pretending, that they dare not face
the danger of attempting to flee, when the government
forbade their quitting the kingdom ; and now liberty
is granted, for making that a reason for staying. We
have described the numerous advantages of public
worship ; we have proved, that the preaching of the
gospel is, if I may speak so, the food of christian
virtues ; and that, when people have accustomed
themselves to live without the public exercises of re-
ligion, they insensibly lose that delicacy of conscience,
without which they cannot either be good christians,
or, what are called in the world, men of honour and
probity ; we have demonstrated this assertion by an
unexceptionable argument taken from experience ; we
have said, Observe that man, who was formerly so
very scrupulous of retaining the property of his neigh-
bour ; see, he retains it now without any scruple : ob-
serve those parents, who were formerly so tender of
their children ; see now with what inhumanity they
leave them to struggle with want. We have repre-
sented to them, that to reside where the spirit of perse-

Gtition

The N^ecessity of Universal Obedience, S5

fcution is only smothered, not extinguished, is to betray
religion, by exposing the friends of it to the hazard of
being martyred, without having any Assurance of being
possessed with a spirit of martyrdom ; and we have en-
deavoured to convince them, that he who flatters him-
self he shall be able to undergo martyrdom, and lives
where he is liable to it, while providence opens a w^ay of
escape, is presumptuous in the highest degree, and ex-
poseth himself to such misery as the son of Sirach de-
nounces, when he says. He thai loveih dange?\ shall per-
ish therein^ Ecclus. iii. 26. Not having been abletdmove
them by motives taken from their own interest, we
have tried to affect them with the interest of their chil*
dren. We have told them, that their posterity will
live without any religion, that they will have too
much knowledge to adhere to superstition, and too
little to profess the true religion ; and this sad pro-
phecy has been already verified in their families. To
all these demonstrations they are insensible ; they wil-
fully shut their eyes against the light ; they guard
themselves against the force of these exhortations; they
are forging new fetters for themselves, which will con-
fine them to a place, of which God has said, Come out
of her, mi/ people! that ye benot partakers of her sins, and
that ye receive not of her plagues, Rev. xviii. 4. They
build, they plant, they marry, they give in marriage,
and thus they have abused the patience of thirty-five
years, in which they have been invited to repent. I
ask again, what relation can be so near as to prevail
with us to put this kind of life amon^^ the frailties, for
which evangelical abatements are reserved.

Let us all, as far as providential circumstances will
allow, follow a profession compatible with our duty.
Let us do more, let us endeavour so to arrange our af-
fairs that our professions may stimulate us to obedience,
and that every thing around us may direct our atten-
tion to God. Alas ! in spite of all our precautions, sin
will too often carry us away ; we shall too often forget

C2

86 The Necessity of Universal Obedience.

our Creator, how loud soever every, voice around wt
proclaims his beneficence to us, and his excellencies in
himself. But how great will our defection be, if our
natural inclinations be strengthened by the eng"age-
ments of our condition ! A kind of life wicked of itself
is the first sort of sin of which my text says, Whosoever
offendeth in one jjoi/it is guilty of all.

2. In the same class v-e put sinners, who cherish a
darling passion. Few hearts are so depraved as to be in-
clined to all excesses. Few souls are so insensible to the
grand interest of their salvation, as to be unw illing to
do any thing toward obtaining salvation. But, at the
same time, \vhere is the heart so renewed as to have no
«^vil disposition ? And how few christians are there, who
love their salvation so as to sacrifice all to the obtain-
ing of it ? The offender, of whom we speak, pretends
tso compound with his lawgiver. Is he inclined to a-
varice ? he will say. Lord ! allow me to gratify my love
of money, and I am ready to give up my disposition
to revenge. Is he inclined to revenge ? Lord ! allow
me to be vindictive, and I will sacrifice my avarice.
Is he disposed to voluptuousness ? Lord ! sufier me to
retain my Drusilla, and my Dalilah, and my vengeance,
my ambition, my avarice, and every thing else, I wiH
sacrifice to thee.

A favourite passit)n is inconsistent with the chief vir-
tue of Christianity, with that, which is the life and soul
gf all others, I mean that love of God, which places
God supreme in the heart. A jealous God will accept
of none of our homage, Vf^hile we refuse hfrn that of
our chief love. All the sacrifices that we can ofiTer
him to purchase a right to retain a darling sin, are
proofs of the empire whidi that sin hath over us, and
of our fixed resolution to free ourselves from the law of
him, who would be, as he ought to be, the supreme
object of our love. Do not fancy, that what we have
said concerning involuntary passions is applicable to
darling sin, and exculpates a favourite passion. One

man.

The Necessity of Universal Obedience. 31

.man, whose involuntary passions sometimes hurry him
away, detests his own disposition ; but the other clie-
rishes his. One makes many an arduous attempt to
correct his error : the other engag-es to do so ; but h6
makes promises pass for performances, and means to
get rid of 4:he Last by professing' the first. One consi-
ders the grace that tears the deplorable passion from
his heart as a most desirable benefit ; and, even while
he falls into his sin, he considers it as the greatest
misfortune of his life : the other regards him as a
mortal enemy who endeavciin's to prevail v/ith him to
renounce a passion, in the gratification of which all
his happine&s depends.

Let us ky down the love of God as a foundation of
all virtue. Let us lo.ve him chiefly, who is supremely
lovely. Let our heai'ts adopt the language of the
psalmist, xlccess to God is my supreme good. Whom
have I in heaven hid thee, and there is none upon the
earth that I desire besides thee, Psal. Ixxiii. 28, 25.
Let us consider and avoid, as acts of idolatry, all im-
moderately lively and affectionate emotions of love to
creatures. Let us entertain only a small degree of
attachment to objects, which at most can procure us
only a momentary felicity. A favourite passioii. is a
second disposition of mind, that renders lis guilty of
a violation of the whole law, even while we seem to
-violate it only in an inconsiderable part.

3. Finally, Intractable minds are condemned in our
text. Docility is a touchstone, by v, hich a doubtful
piety may be knowii to be real or apparent. The
royal prophet describes in the fiftieth psalm such a
rigid observer of the exterior of religioo as we speak
of ; a man who has tJie kame of God always in his
mouth, and is ever talking of the holiness of his laws ;
a man always ready to olfer v> hole hecatombs in sa-
crifice ; but who has not patience to hear a represent-
ation of his duty, and an exhortation to perform it.
The psalmist declares, all this appearance of devotion,

if

38 The Necessity of Universal Obedience,

if unaccompanied with docility, is useless ; yea, more
likely to arouse the anger of Gcd than to obtain his
favour. Thou wicked wretch ! says he, in the name of
God, to this phantom of piety, who imposes on the
church by his outward appearance, and who, perhaps,
imposeth on himself ; Thou wicked man, what hast thou
to do to declare my statutes, or that thou shouldest take
my covenant in thy mouth, seeing thou haiest instruction t
ver. 16. He authoriseth us to use the same language
to some of you. Why this assiduity at church, why
this zeal on solemn festivals, why this fervour at the
Lord's table, seeing you are unteachable ; seeing you
love none but vague maxuPxS of virtue and holiness ;
seeing you will not allow your casuist to enter into
some deteils ; seeing every man loses your favour, if
he hints your foibles ; seeing your tenderest and most
faithful friend would become suspected directly, yea,
would seem an impertinent censor, the moment he
should discover your faults, and endeavour to make
you acknowledge and reform them ?

My brethren, if we love virtue, we love all the
means that lead to it, and with peculiar pleasure be-
hold them who recommend it. Nothing is more op-
posite to that general devotedness to the laws of God
which my text prescribes, than a spirit inimical against
them who have the courage to controul the passions.
" He that turneth away his ear from hearing the law,
even his prayer shall be abomination," Prov. xxviii. 9.
" Whoso loveth instruction loveth knowledge," chap,
xii. 1 . " The law of the wise is a fountain of life, to
depart from the snares of death," chap. xiii. 14. '* Let
the righteous smite me, it shall be a kindness ; and let
him reprove me, it shall be an excellent oil, which shall
not break my head," Psal. cxli. 5. May God always
continue a succession of such righteous men, and may
he incline our hearts to profit by their instructions !
To him be honour and glory for ever. Am.en.

' SERMON

SERMON II,

The Great Duties of Religion

Matthew xxiii. 23.

Woe unto youy Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for
ye pay tithe of mini , and anise, and cummin, and have
omitted the weighiier matters of the law, judgment,
mercy, and faith : these ought ye to have done, and
not to leave the other undone.

Tl/'E frequently meet with a sort of people in the
world, who some of them neglect the chief vir-
tues of religion, and supply the want of them by per-
forming the least articles of it ; and others, who per-
form the chief duties, and neglect the least. Observe
one man, who cherishes a spirit of bitterness, and is
all swelled with pride, envy, and revenge ; by what art
hath he acquired a reputation of eminent piety ? By
grave looks, by an affected simplicity of dress, by an
assiduity in the exercises of public worship. See an-
other, who is all immersed in worldly affaii's, whose
life is all consumed in pleasure, who neglects, and who
affects to neglect, both public worship and private de-
votion. Ask him how he expects to escape in a well-
regulated society that just censure which irregular

actions,

40 ' Great Duties of Eeligion,

actions, and a vvaj^Nof living- inconsistent with chris-
tianitv, deserve. He will tell you I am a man of ho-
nour, I pay my debts, I am faithful to my engage-
ments, I never break my word.

We are going to-day, my brethren, to attack both
classes of this inconsistent sort of people ; and to prove,
that the practice of small virtues cannot supply the
want of the chief; and that the performance of the
chief virtues cannot make up for the omission of the
least. These points are determined by Jesus Christ in
the text. On the one hand, he denounces a woe against
the Scribes and Pharisees, who scrupulously extended
their obedience to the Mosaical law of tithes to the
utmost limits, while they violated the more indispensi-
ble precepts of morality. On the other hand, he does
not intend to divert the attention of his disciples from
the least duties by enforcing the greatest. These ought
ye to have done^ and not to leave the other undone. As
if he had said. Your principal attention, indeed, should
be directed to equity of judgment, to charitable distri-
bution of property, and to sincerity of conversation ;
but, beside an attention to these, you should diligent-
ly discharge the less considerable duty of tithing, and
other such obligations. These are two propositions
which I will endeavour to explain and establish. They
will afford matter for two discourses ; the first on the
chief virtues, and the last on the least, or, more strict-
ly speaking, the less considerable. Some preliminary
remarks, however, are absolutely necessary for our
understanding the text.

1. The word that should determine the sense, is
equivocal in the. original, and signifies sometimes to ex-
act tithes, and at other times to jm^ them. It is used
in the first sense in Hebrews, the sons of Levi have a com-
mdndment to take tithes of the people; and a little after,
he whose descent is not counted from them, received tithes
of Abraham, chap. vii. 5, 6. But, in the gospel of St
Luke, the word which we haye elsewhere rendered to
' receiv^

Great Duties of Religioiu 4 1

receive tithes, signifies to pay them, I give tithes, saith
the })hansee, of all that I possess fChaj). xviii. 12.

Tlie ambiguity of this term hath produced various
opinions concerning the meaning of our text. The
most hiborious, and the most learned of the ancient
expositors, I mean St Jerom, is said to have taken the
term in the first sense. According to this hypothesis,
Jesus Christ paints the Pharisees here in colours, which
have ahiio.st always too well suited the persons to whom
governments have intrusted the business of tax-gather-
jng. Inhumanity has almost alwaysbeen their character.
Ye tithe ??wit, anise, and cuvimin, and ye omit judgment,
merci), andfaiih. As if he had said, You tithe incon-
siderable herbs, and you do not reflect, that it is incom-
patible with principles both of equity and mercy to
tithe inconsiderable articles, from which the proprietors
derive little or no advantage. It is not right, that
these things should be subject to such imposts as go-
vernments charge on articles of great consequence.

We embrace the sense of our translators, and take
the word to signify here joay tithes. This sense best
agrees with the whole text. Ye pay tithes of mint, anise,
and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
law. These ought ye to have done, and not to leavetheother
undone. It agrees better also with the following words.
Ye strain at a gnat, and siuallow a camel. This is a pro-
yerbial way of speaking, descriptive of that disposition
of mind, which inclines men to perform inconsiderable
duties with a most scrupulous exactness, and to violate
without any scruple the most essential articles of reli-
gion. The hypocrisy of the Pharisees would have
been less remarkable in an inhumane exaction of tithes,
than in a parade of paying them with a rigid nicety.
Accordingly, it is a Pharisee who speaks the words just
now cited fi'om St Luke, and who reckons scrupulosity
among his virtues. God, I thank thee, that I am not
as other men a?e. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of
all that I possess, that is to saj, I pay tithes of those

things

4'2 Great Duties of Relig ion .

things which seem to be too inconsiderable to be
tithed.

2. Our second remark regards the law of tithes.
Tithes were dues payable to God, and thejr consisted of
the tenth of the produce of whatever was titheable.
The Jews pretended, that the example of Abraham,
T\ho paid to God, in the person of Melchisedeck, his
minister, a tenth of the spoils which he took from the
confederate kings of the plain, ought to have the force
of a law with all his descendents. To this mysterious
circumstance they refer the origin of tithes. NaturgJ
religion seepis to have inculcated among the pagans
the necessity of paying this kind of homage to God,
We meet with examples among the heathens for time
immemorial. With them tithes were considered as a
sacred tax. Hence Pisistratus, a tyrant of Athens, said
to the Athenians, in order to obtain their consent to
jsubmit to his authority. Inquire whether I appropriate
tithes to myself, and do not religiously carry them to
the temples of the gods. We will not multiply quo-
tations. It shall suffice to say, God declared to the
Israelities, that the land of Canaan was his, as well as
the rest of the world, that they should enjoy the pro-
duce of the land ; but should be as strangers and pil-
grims, and have no absolute disposal of the lands them-
selves. In the quality of sole proprietor he obliged
them to pay him homage, and this is the true origin of
tithes. All the tithe of the land, whether of the seed of
the land, or of the fruit of the tree, is the Lord's, Lev.
xxvii. SO. that is, tithe iDelongs to God of right, and
cannot be withheld without sacrilege.

There were three sorts of tithes. The first kind
was appointed for the support of the Levites, and was
wholly devoted to that purpose, except a fifth, which
was tJiJken out for the priests. This was called by the
Jews the first tithe, the provision for God, because it
\\ as dedicated to the maintenance of the ministers of the
temple. Bring ^e all the tithes into the store-house, that
there 'maij be vieat in mine hoiise, Mai. iii* ]0. Hence

the

Gr-eat Didies of Religion. 43

the Jews thought themselves free from this kind df
tithe, when they had no temple.

There was a second sort of tithe. Every head of a
family was obliged to carry it himself to the temple at
Jerusalem, and to eat it there. If he were prevented
by distance of habitation, he was allowed to redeem this
tax, that is to say, he was allowed to pay an equivalent.
A law to this purpose is in Deuteronomy. " Thou shalt
eat before the Lord thy God, in the place which he shall
choose to place his name there, the tithe of thy corn, of
thy wine, and of thine oil, and the firstlings of thy
herds, and of thy flocks, that thou mayest learn to
fear the Lord thy God always. And if the way be
too long for thee," that is to say, if the tithe would
take damage in carrying, then shalt " thou turn it into
money, and shalt carry it unto the place which the
Lord thy God shall choose," chap. xiv. 28, 25.

The third sort of tithes were called the tithes for the
poor. These, it was supposed, were paid to God, be-
cause his benevolence had, if I may speak agreeably to
an expression of Jesus Christ, incorporated them with
himself. " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,"
Matt. XXV. 40. This tithe was paid every three years.
*« At the end of three years thou shalt bring forth all the
tithe of thine increase the same year, and shall lay it up
within thy gates. And the Levite, because he hath no
part nor inheritfincc with thee, and the stranger, and the
fatherless, and the widow, which are within thy gates,
shall come, and shall eat, and be satisfied ; that the
Lord thy God may bless thee in ^11 the work of thine
hand, which thou doest, " Deut. xiv. 28, 29.

But what principally regards the sense of our text
is, that the law had not precisely determined what
things were titheable. It had only expressed the mat-
ter in general terms. This had given occasion to two
opinions among the Jews, that of the scrupulous, and
that of the remiss. The remiss atfirmed, that only
things of value were titheable. The scrupulous, among

whom

44 Great Duties of Religion.

whom the Pharisees held the first place, extended the
law to articles of the least importance. Their rituals
ordained, that all eatables were titheable, and in this
class they put the inconsiderable herbs mentioned in
the text. They are all specified in the Talmud.
Jesus Christ declares himself here for the opinion of the
Pharisees ; but what he blamed, and what he detested
Tv^as, that they dispensed with the great duties of reli-
gion, under pretence of performing these, the least ;
and this is tlie subject we are going to examine.

I. We will define the great duties of religion.

II. We will unmask those hypocrites, who by ob-
serving the small duties of religion, pretend to pur-
chase a right of violating the chief articles of it. We
will endeavour to develope this kind of devotion, and
to shew you the inutility and extravagance of it.

I. What are the chief duties of religion ? or, to re-
tain the language of my text, what are the weightier
matters of the law ?

In some respects all virtues are equal, because the
foundation of our obedience is the same, that is, the
majesty of the Supreme Legislator, who prescribed all.
A man who should coolly and obstinately violate
the least important duties of religion, would be no
less guilty than he who should violate the most essen-
tial articles of it. His violation of the least ought
to be accounted a violation of the greatest, because
by sinning in the manner just now mentioned, he would
subvert, as far as he could, the ground of all virtues,
great and small. St James saith, lohosoever shallkeepthe
whole lmi\ and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of alh
chap. ii. ]0. and the reason he assigns is, the sameGod
hath prescribed all, For he thai said, Do not commit a-
dulterij, said also, Do not kill. Now, adds the apostle, if
thou commit no adultery, yet if thou kill, thou art hecomea
transgressor of the law, ver. 11 . that is to say, thou sub-
Tcrteat the fomidation of the law, that forbids adultery^ ■

which

Great Duties of Religion. 45

"Hliich thou dost not commit, as well as that which for-
bids murder, which thou dost commit. In this respect,
then, all virtues and vices are equal. In this view,
there is no room for distinction between the more and
the less important duties of religion.

But this, which is incontestible in one point of
view, is not defensible in another. There are some
things in the law more important than others ; be-
cause, though they all proceed from the same tri-
bunal, yet the majesty of God, the lawgiver, was
displayed in a more express and solemn manner in
Ordaining some than others, so that he who violates
the first kind of virtues^ attacks this majesty in a more
direct manner than he who is guilty of violating only
the last.

The difficulty lies in exactly determining the rules
by which these two classes of virtues have been distin-
guished. The time allotted for a sermon renders such
a discussion impracticable. It is, if I may so speak,
essential to all sermons preached in this pulpit, that
they be discussed superficially. We must accommo-
date ourselves to custom, and briefly sketch out the
present subject.

In order to ascertain what virtues ought to be ar-
ranged among the most important, and what among
the least, five things must be distinguished. 1. The
origin of a virtue. 2. The duration of it. 3. Its ob-
ject. 4. Its influence. 5. Its destination. From these
distinctions arise five rules.

The first rule regards the origin of a virtue* A
virtue arising immediately from primitive law, is
mroe important than others, an obligation to whicJj
arises from some particular circumstances ; and thos^
which are immediate consequences of tiiis law, are
more important than others, which are remotely con-
sequential.

The second regards the duration of a virtue. A
virtue that runs on to eternity, is more important

than

46 Great Duties of lleligion,

than another, which belongs only to the economy of
time.

The third rule regards the object of a virtue. A
virtue, that hath a great object, is more important
than another which hath an inconsiderable object.

The fourth rule is taken from the influence of a vir^
tue. A virtue connected with other virtues, and
moving along with itself a great many others, is more
important than another virtue which operates inde-
pendently and alone.

The fifth rule regards the end of a virtue. A vir-
tue that constitutes the end to which all religion con-
ducts us, is more important than other virtues, which
at most only promote the means that lead to the end.
We shall briefly explain these five rules, and shall
leave them to your mature deliberation.

The first rule is taken from the oj^igin of a virtue.
One virtue originating immediately in primitive law is
more important than another, an obligation to per-
form which is founded only on some particular circum^
stances ; and such virtues as are immediate conse-
quences of this law, are more important than others
that are only remotely consequential.

Primitive law is that class of maxims which derive
their authority, not from revealed law only, but from
the eternal truths on which they are founded, and
from the nature of the intelligent beings to whom
'they are prescribed. Such are these : A created in^
telligence has no right to assume a freedom from the
laws of his Creator : The Being who possesseth su-
preme perfection, is alone worthy of supreme adora-
tion : Whatsoever ye xvould that men shoidd do to you^
do ye even so to them^ Matt. vii. 12 : Talents with
which I am entrusted by another, ought riot to be
employed to gratify my particular caprice ; but they
ought to be so used so as to enable me to give a good
account of them to him who entrusted me with them,
and directed the use of them. Multiply and enlarge

these

Great Duties of Religion. 4t

these maxims, brethren ; I only give you a clue. Vir-
tues of this kind are far more important than others*
an obligation to which is founded only on particular
circumstances. Virtues of this last kind oblige only
as consequences of the primitive law, of which I just
now spoke ; and they oblige more or less, as the con-
sequences are more or less remote. To address conso-
latory conversation to a sufferer obliges only as a conse-
quence of this primitive virtue, WJiatsoever ye would
that men should do to you, do ye even so to them. To
comfort an afflicted man by conversing with him, is
a consequence more remote from this primitive virtue
than to remove iiis affliction by su})plying' his wants.
Accordingly, the virtues of this consequential kind
cease to oblige, when the circumstances that found
the obligation cease. Hence, it sometimes happens,
these duties annihilate one another. We must often
omit some to discharge others. We must defer, or
wholly omit consolatory conversation, in order to pro-
cure and administer real supplies. We must omit re-
lieving a stranger, in order to fly to relieve a fellow-
citizen. We must cease to relieve one to whom we
are related only as a fellow-citizen, in order to attend
to the relief of another, who is a member with us of
the household of faith. Gal. vi. 10. and so on.

2. Virtues anterior to particular circumstances sub-
sist after those circumstances ; and my second maxim
is only the first in a different point of view. A virtue
perpetuated to eteTnity is more important than another
which is confined within the limits of time. Now,
the virtues that go on to eternity, are the same which
oblige prior to all the particular circumstances of time*
The two rules therefore unite ; it is one proposed in
divers views.

Hear hoVv St Paul reasons to prove that charity is
more excellent than all the miraculous gifts which
God bestowed on the primitive christians. He enu-
ijierates these gifts : God hath set in the church, J\rst

aposths

4S Great Duties of Religion.

apostles^ secondarily prophets i thirdli/ teachers , after thai
miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, divert
sities of tongues, 1 Cor. xii. 28. But, adds he, covet
earnestly the best gifts: and yet I sheiu unto you a more
excellent way, ver. SI. Then follows his encomium
upon Charity. Charity, or love, never faileth : hut
'whether there he prophecies, they shall fail ; whether there
be tongues, they shall cease ; ivhether there be knowledge,
it shall va?iish aivay, 1 Cor. xiii. 8. Moreover, he places
charity not only above all miraculous gifts : but he
sets it above all other virtues. And now abideth faith,
hope, charity, these three: but the greatest of these is
charity, ver. 13.

My brethren, what St Paul said of miraculous gifts,
and of some virtues, that they fail in comparison with
charity, an obligation to which continues for ever,
we say of a thousand particular practices, to which,
indeed, you are obliged, but which are not to be
compared with other great virtues, of the excellence
of which we have beeii speaking, and which are
weightier matters of the law. All these particular cir-
cumstances will cease in another life : but these great
virtues, to which we would persuade you to give the
preference, will never cease. In heaven we can erect
no hospitals, visit no sfck people, wipe off no slander :
but we shall be happily united by ties the most agree-
able, the most close, and the most indissoluble. In
heaven we shall love one another with sentiments the
most sincere, the most lively, the most tender ; because
we shall participate tlie same God, propose to our-
selves the same end, and be foi' ever in the highest
bliss. In heaven we shall have no temple : we shall
eternally enjoy the presence of God. In heaven we
shall not -take hold of each others skirts, Zech. viii. 23. ac-
cording to the expression of a prophet, saying, Come^
and let us go 2ip to the mountain of the Lord, Isa. ii. S.
but we shall incessantly animate one another to cele-
brate the praises of the Author of our existence and

happiness

Great Duties of Religion. 49

liappiness. In heaven we shall riot approach a table
to commemorate, by receiving- a little bread and wine,
our divine Redeemer, and to hold communion with
God ; but we shall be as closely connected to God as
creatures can be to the Creator. Those virtues which
apj)roach nearest to them that are anterior to time,
and to them that continue to eternity, are more im.-
portant than others, to which circumstances of time
oblige us.

3. Our third rule regards objects of vii'tue. A vir-
tue that hath a great object, is more important than
those which have small objects. The answer of Jesus
Christ to a famous question in his time is well known.
It was then warmly disputed, " AVhich is the great com-
mandment ?" Some Rabbles said, it Was that which ix\}-
\}omied phylacteries ; others affirmed, it was the law of
circumcision ; others again contended for that which ap-
pointed sacrijices. No, said Jesus Christ, none of these
commandments merits the highest place, " the great
commandment is. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God
with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy
strength." This law admits of no dispensation, no li-
mitation, no concurrence.

This law, I say, is hidispensible : it binds alike angels
and men, and they are only devils Avho, having preci-
pitated themselves by the greatest of all crimes into
the greatest of all miseries, are reduced to the dread-
ful necessity of hating a God whose perfections incline
him to render them miserable.

This law is vnlimiied. Others are confined to a
certain sphere ; they cease to be virtues when they are
carried to excess, and whatever carries us too far in
performing one obligation, retrenches another obliga-
tion. Excessive justice runs into barbarity, and leaves
no room for the exercise of humanity. Excessive
penitence ceases to be repentance, degenerates into
despair, and leaves no room for faith in the promises
of mercy made to us in the gospel. Excessive faith

VOL. IV. 0 ceases

Bd (jrveat Duties of Aeligion.

ceases to be faith, degenerates into siiperstitioii anci
puerile credulity, and leaves no room for the exercise
of reason. But who can love God in an extreme ?
A passion so noble can never be tooVehement, nor can
its flames ever burn with too much ardour.

This law is without concurrence. The great object
of our love admits of no rival in the heart. In many
cases we ought to sao'ifice one duty, v\4iich has God for
its object, to another that has a neighbour for its ob-
ject. It would be better to absent one's self from the ex-
ternal duties of religion than to neglect a dying pa-
rent. Love to Gocl in this case is not in opposition
to love for a fellow creature. God himself requires us
in such a case to suspend a performance of ritual ser-
vice, and to bend all our attention to relieve a dying
parent. The love then shewn to a dying parent is a
necessary consequence of loving God, of that primitive
love from which all other loves proceed. Whenever
the love of God and the love of our neighbour are in
opposition, so that we cannot perform the last without
neglecting the first, wx need not hesitate ; love to God
must be preferred before lOve to creatures. The most
lawful attachments become criminal, when they dimi-
nish, yea when they divide, the regard that we ought to
have for God. " No man can serve two masters." "lie
that loveth father or mother, or son or daughter more
thanme,isnotworthy of me." "Thoushalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind. This is the first and great com-
mandment," Matt. vi. 24. X. 17. and xxii. SQ, 37.

The objects of some virtues, which regard our neigh-
bour, are greater than others of the same class. Cha-
rity which respects the life of a neighbour, is greater
than that which regards his fortune. Charity that
regards his salvation, is greater than that which re=-
gards his life ; the objects are greater.

The same may be said of virtues which regard our-
selves. The rule is certain. A virtue which hath a

great

Great Duties of Religion, tA

c^reat object is more important than another which
hath a small object.

4. Our fourth rule regards the injluence of virtues.
Every virtue connected with other virtues, and draw-
ing* after it many more, is greater than any single and
detached virtue. The influence of virtues proceeds in
some cases from the relations of him who performs
them, and in other cases from the 7ia/i^?'e of the virtues
themselves.

The virtues of a minister of state, and those of a
minister of Christ, are of far greater importance in the
execution of their offices than the other virtues of the
same men which they practise as private persons in
the comparative obscurity of their families. It is a
very virtuous action in a statesman to provide good
tutors for his children ; but it is a far more virtuous ac-
tion in him to prefer able professors in an university.
The first influence only his family, the last the whole
state. The same reasoning holds in the case of a mi-
nister of Christ, and of every other person, always
proportioning, however, the duty to the relation that
each bears in the world.

Sometimes the iufluence of a virtue is essential to
the nature of the virtue itself. It is a virtue to bestow
on a beggar a sum sufficient to free him from the ne-
cessity of begging ; but it is a far more virtuous action
to put him in a capacity of supporting himself; for by
this mean he is not only freed from the temptations of
poverty, but from those of idleness, the parent of all
vice and misery^ By this mean, you make a good
member of society, a good father of a family, a good
christian in the church, and so on.

What has been said on the difference of virtuejf,
both in this and in the former rules, may be applied tp
the difference of vices. Vicious actions of extensive
influence ought to be considered as more odious than
others of confined effects. It is certainly a detestable
option to utter, in excesses of debauchery, any maxims

2 injurious

52 Great Duties of Religion,

injurious to religion and good manners : but it is in-
comparably more detestable, coolly and deliberately
to pell, print, publish, extend, and perpetuate these
maxims. There is no pretext specious enough to pal-
liate the permission of such publications, as there are
no colours black enough to describe the audacious au-
thors of such books.

No, neither that spirit of toleration, which produces
such innumerable blessings where it reigns, nor that
freedom of commerce, which, where it is allowed, en-
riches nations, and renders them so flourishing and
formidable ; no, no pretext can palliate the liberty, or
rather the licentiousness that we deplore. The law of
God ordained that a blasphemer should be stoned, and
this law was executed in all its rigour by tlie Jewish
legislature. Have christians more right to blaspheme
God than ,Tews had ? Has the christian magistrate a
greater right to exercise indulgence towards blasphe-
mers than Jewish magistrates liad ?

But if no pretext can be invented to palliate a permis-
sion of such publications, who can furnish colours black
enough to describe the publishers of them ? Thou mi-
serable wretch, who, in order to obtain the empty
reputation of an author, and to acquire the false glory
of writing with vivacity and beauty, coverest thyself
with real infamy, what madness animates thee! Wretqh!
who spreadest the poison of thy corruption, not only
through thine own circle, but through all the countries
where thine infamous productions go ; infecting not
only thy contemporaries, but all others who succeed
thee ; what punishment proportioned to thy malice can
be inflicted on thee ! Miserable wretch ! methinks I
distinguish tliee hereafter in the croud of victims, Avhich
tiie vengeance of God sacrificeth in helL Methinks
I see thee amidst the unworthy captives, whom thy
writings subdued to Satan, and I hear them address
this frightful language to thee : Thou barbarian !
was it not enough for thee to delight thyself with

error

Great Duties of Religion, 5S

^rror and vice, didst thou aspire at the glory of giving ;
us a relish for it ! Was it not enough to exclude thy-
self from eternal hajjpiness, must heaven also be shut
against us, by thine abominable maxims as well as thy ,
pernicious example ! Was it not enough to precipitate
thyself into these flames, must we be drawn after thee !
Thou wast our betrayer in time, and we will be thy ^
tormentors through all eternity.

Finally, the last rule to distinguish virtues the most
important of others of inferior importance, is taken
from the end of each. A virtue that constitute^) the
end to which all religion conducts us, is more import-
ant than other virtues which at most are only means
to lead to the end. What is the end and design of all
religion? Can there be one among us so great a no-
vice in the school of Jesus Christ as to want an an-
swer to this question ? Let us hear St Paul. " Christ
loved the church, and gave himself for it, that he might
sanctify it, and that he might present it to himself a
glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such
thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish,"
Eph. V. 25, 26, 27. This is the end of religion. In
order to obtain this end, we are dedicated to God in
baptism as soon as we are born. In our infancy we
are inspired with a piety of prejudice in hope that in
time we may imbibe a rational piety. As soon as our
minds unfold their powers we are taught to know
our Creator. As Ave ripen in years and knowledge,
tutors are provided for us, and we are conducted
to places of public worship erected to the glory of
our Creator ; there being assembled we are invited to
celebrate solemn festivals ; there we are taught whence
Ave came and v\iiither we go, what we are and what
we ought to be, what we should believe, and what
we ought to practice : we are led by the exercise of
prayer to the source of all that assistance which is
necessary to enable us to surmount the obstacles
which nature, Example, and habit, in spite of an edu-
cation

54< Great Duties of Religion,

cation the most rigid and holy, oppose to our sancti-
fication ; there we are made to ratify, by engagements
the most solemn and binding, at the table of the
Lord, all that had been promised for iis at our bap-
tism. Now what are all these practices ? Are they
not means to conduct us to the end of religion ? Let
us then put every thing in its proper place ; let us va-
lue the m.eans only as they lead to the end ; and let
us not imagine, Vv hen we have lost sight of the end,
that we do any thing to purpose by contirifling to
make use of the means.

Here, my brethren, I finish my e^say ; for the rules
laid down are sufiicient to enable us to perceive the
reasons which induced Jesus Christ to rank the \\v-
t\.n:s eniimcr aied,jiidg7nenf,jaitlt, andmercTj^ among the
weighiier matters of the laiu. Can we refuse this rank
to what Jesus Christ calh jiidg7ne7it ; that is, attentive,
impartial, incorruptible justice ; such equity as that
V. hich engageth a judge to go through the fatigue of
along and painful discussion of an intricate subject, to
disregard the appearance of persons, never to sulfer
himself to be hllndcd hy gifls^ to determiine a point and
decide a cause only by the justice or injustice of it ?
Can vve refuse this rank tp mercij, tiiat is, to that be-
nevolence which inclines us always to tolerate the to-
lerable infirmities of our neighbours, to excuse them
when any excuse can be made for them, to conceal and
correct them, rather than to envenom and publitdi them;
or, to use tlie language of St Paul, can we refuse to
place in the highest order of virtues that charity " which
fuiieretli long and is kind, w hich vaunteth not itself,
which is not putied up, which doth not behave itself un-
seemly, seeketh not its ov/n,is not easily provoked, think-
cth no evil, rejoicetli not in iniquity, beareth, believeth,
liopeth, eudureth all things," 1 Cor. xiii. 4, cvc. My God,
what a description i My God, how seldom is this vir-
tue practised, how little is it understood, even among
christians ! Finally, Can we refuse to place among

the

Great Duiies of Religion, M

t%e weightier matters of the law, what Jesus Christ calls
faith, that is, such a rectitude and candour as all the
world praise, though few practise, tiie virtue that
makes a man sincere in his professions, steady in his
friendships, punctual in his contracts, faithful in all his
engagements ? Our attempt, our rules may serve to
convince you, that these virtues ought to be placed in
the highest rank, and that their plac<3s cannot be sup-
plied by a punctual payment of tithes, or by any other
duties of the same class. This is so clear that it is
needless to add any thing more on this article.

11. What we proposed to treat of in the second place
ilemands a greater attention. We engaged to unmask
5uch of our hearers as endeavour to acquire by the
performance of less important duties, a right to
neglect other duties of the highest class and of the
utmost importance. And yet I have neither time nor
courage to fulfil this engagement. All that the few
remaining moments, all that the delicacy, or, if I may
venture to use the words of an apostle, all that the itch-
vig ears of our times will allov/ me to do, is to set you
a task. This is it. Recollect our rules, avaU your-
selves of them to enable you to form a just notion of
your state ; and to exemplify in a iew articles what
we cannot fully investigate, let one avail himself of our
rules to enable him to make a just estimate of the de-
cency of his outward deportment ; let another judge
by these of the value of those sacrifices which he has
made for religion ; another of his assiduity in attend-
ing public worship ; and another of the encomiums
which he makes on the dead, and which h^ hopes his
survivors will after his decease make on him.

You are a man of a grave deportment. All the vir-
tues seem painted in your countenance, your eyes habi-
tually roll tov/ards heaven, the smallest inadvertence
offends and provokes you, your mouth never opens
but to utter moral sentences ; and yet you are proud

and

56 Great Duties of Aeliglon.

and aftronted at a smile, a look, the least indication of
incivility. Every body knows you are always full of
your own importance, your reputation, your rank, and
what is still worse, your virtue. It should seem you
are afraid of defiling" yourself by touching* other men,
and always exclaiming by your actions, if not in so
many words, " Stand by thyself, come not near me, for
I am holier than thou," Isa. Ixv. 5. How little progress
soever we have made in the knowledge of the human
heart, and in the art of discerning the pretences, under
which the most haughty souls conceal their pride, it
is easy enough to see that what you esteem above all
other things is self. Ah ! woe be to you ! you pay tithe
ofiuint, anise, and cummin ; hniyow omit the iveightier
matters of the law. Do I impose on you ? What place
then does humility occupy in your system of morality ?
What value do you set upon humility, that virtue of
which Jesus Christ has given you so many excellent
descriptions, and so many amiable models ?

You have made great sacrifices for religion. You
have left your country and your fortune, your honour
and your family, yea, your all, to follow Jesus Christ :
yet, were we to judge of your intention by your actions,
we should affirm that you followed him only to have
a fairer opportunity to insult and betray him. It is
notorious that you violate, without remorse, the most
essential laws of that religion, for the sake of which
you made such noble sacrifices. In this exile, to
which you voluntarily condemned yourself for the
sake of religion, we see you covetous, envious, re-
vengeful, wearing, and glorying to wear, the livery
of the world. Ah [ ivoe be to you ! you pay tithe of mint,
anise, and cummin: but omit the iveightier matters of the
law. I ask again, do I impose on you ? What place,
then, does the practical part of religion occupy in
your system ? Is Christianity less proposed to your
heart than to your mind ? Is the person from whom it
proceeds, less jealous of his precepts than of his doc-
trines?

Great Duties of Religion. ' 51

trines ? Satisfied that his disciples sat/ Lord, Loi'd, is
he indifTerent whether they perform or omit what lie
commands ?

You are assiduous in attending* public worship.
You are scrupulously exact in the performance of every
part. Our festivals are delicious days to you ; but
alas ! devotion sours your temper, and you become
insufferable as you grow devout. You make your
friends martyrs ; you treat your children like slaves,
and your domestics like animals of a species different
from your own. You are more like a fury than a
man. Your house is a hell, and it seems as if you
came into a christian church only to learn of the
God, who is worshipped there, the art of becoming
a tormentor of mankind. Ah ! " Woe be to you! you pay
tithe of mint, anise, and cummin f but "you omit the
weightier matters of the law." I ask again, Do I im-
pose on you ? What rank, then, in your system does
discretion occupy ? Where is that spirit of prudence,
patience, gentleness, and goodness, which the inspired
w^riters so often repeat, and so powerfully recommend
in tlieir writings ?

You celebrate the praises of your dying friends, and
incessantly exclaim, ** Howcomfortably hedied!" If you
do not go so far as to place your departed friends, who in
your opinion died in such a christian manner, among
the number of the gods, you do place them without
scruple in the number of the saints. This sort of en-
comium is a model of that at which you aspire ; hence
you often exclaim, speaking of your gooddepartedfriend,
" Let me die his death, and let my last end be like his !'*
Numb, xxiii. 10. When you are seized with any ill-
ness that threatens your life, you put on all the ex-
terior of religion. I see one minister after another
sitting at your bed-side. I hear your constant sobs and
groans. Here is nothing but weeping and sighing and
holy ejaculations ; but I stand listening to hear you
utter one other word, that is, restitution, and that I

never

.S8 Great Duties of Religion.

never hear. I never hear you say, as Zaccheus said,
" If I have taken any thing from any man by false accu-
sation, I restore him fourfold," Luke xix. 8. I never
see your coffers disgorge the riches you have obtained
by extortion ; you never hear, or never feel the cries
" of the labourers, which have reaped down your fields,
wiiose hire is of youkept backbyfraud,thecriesof w^hom
are entered into the ears of the Lordof Sabaoth," James
V. 4. You choose rather to set at defiance all those
terrible judgments w^hich.God hath denounced against
extortioners than to part from your idol, gain ; you
would rather transmit your fortune under a curse to
your posterity than restore what you and your ances-
tors have extorted. Ah ! ** Wo be to you! you pay tithe
of mint, anise, and cummin ; but yoii omit the weightier
matters of the law, judgment, faith, and mercy !"

My brethren, it is a deplorable thing, that when we
treat of such an important subject as this, we are
obliged to pay more attention to the delicacy of our
hearers than to the "weight of the subject. But in the
jiame of God, do you yourselves finish the list of those
articles which timidity (or, shall I say, caution ?) for-
bids me to extend. Go up to the origin of that dis-
position which I have been opposing. It must pro-
ceed from one of three principles ; it must come from
either narrowness of mind, or hypocrisy, or a crimi-
nal composition.

Perhaps it may proceed from littleness of mind. We
are enslaved by external appearance. We determine
ourselves by semblances. In the world more reputa-
tion is acquired by the shadow than by the substance
of virtue. By habituating ourselves to this kind of
imposition, we bring ourselves to believe that God
v/ill sutler himself to be imposed on in the same man-
ner. '* These things hast thou done," saith he by the mouth
of a prophet, •* and thou thoughtcst that I was altoge-
ther such a one as thyself," Psal. \,'2l. We insensibly
persuade ourselves, that, provided we lift 6ur eyes

to

Great Duties of Religion. 59

to heaven, God will think our hearts are elevated
thither ; provided we kneel before the throne of God,
he will think our hearts bow with our bodies ; pro-
vided we mutter a few prayers, God will accept us as
if we formed ideas and performed acts of love. This
is littleness of mind.

Sometimes it proceeds from hypocrisy. Jesus Christ
reproached the Pharisees with this. The Pharisees
were attached to religion no further than as it acquired
them reputation in the world. But I will not insist
on this article. I freely acknowledge, I had almost
said I lament, that hyprocrisy is not the vice of our age.
Piety is now so little respected, that w^e need not much
suspect people of aiming to acquire reputation by pro-
fessing it ; yea, perhaps, it may oftener happen that
they w^ho really have some degree of it conceal it in
order to escape contempt, than that others w^ho have
noiie, affect to possess it in order to acquire public
esteem.

Sometimes also this disposition of mind proceeds
from a criminal composition. We have the face to
compound w itli God. We are wdlling to perform the
external part of religion, provided he will dispense
with the internal part ; we are ready to offer sacrifices
provided he will dispense with obedience ; we are
willing to do what costs our depravity nothing, or next
to nothing, if he will dispense with what would cost
it much.

Let us finish. One maxim, which I intreat you to
retain in memory, is the essence of my subject, and
the spring that gives force to all the exhortations
w^hich I have addressed to you in the latter periods of
this discourse. This maxim is, that a christian is
obliged by his heavenly calling, not only to practise ail
virtues, but to place each in its proper rank ; to give
more application to such as merit more application,
and to give most of all to such as require most of all.

On this principle, Avhat an idea ought we to form

of

60 Great Duties of Religion.

of that mei'CTj or benevolence, which my text places
among the weightier matters of the law? You have heard
the value of this in the body of this discourse. Such
virtues as have God for their object are more impor-
tant than others, which have our neighbour for their
object. But God, in order to engage us to benevo-
lence, hath taught us to consider beneficence to our
neighbours as one of the surest evidences of our love
to himself. He unites himself with the poor ; he
clothes himself, as it were, with their miseries ; and
he tells us, inasmuch as ye do good unto one of the least of
these^ ye do it unto me. Matt. xxv. 40. What a sublime
idea ! From what a fund of love does such a benevo-
lent declaration proceed ! And, at the same time, what
a motive to animate us to lienevolcnce.

This virtue, to the practice of which we perpetual-
ly exhort you, ought to be extraordinarily exerted,
my dear brethren, now that God visits us with a
sort of judgment, I mean the excessive rigour of this
winter. It is not a judgment upon you, rich men,
God loads you with temporal blessings ; but it falls
upon you, miserable labourers, whose hands, benumbed
with cold, are rendered incapable of working, the only
way you have of procuring a morsel of bread for
yourselves and your families : upon you, poor old
people, struggling at the same time against the infir-
mities of old age and the rigours of the season : upon
you, innocent victims to hunger and cold, who have
no provision except cries and tears, and whom I see
more dead than alive around a fire that emits less
heat than smoke : upon you, wretched sick people,
lodged in a hovel open on all sides to the weather,
and destitute of both nourishment and clothing. Is
it wrong to call a cause producing stich tragical ef-
fects a judgment ? Must I justify the term by rea-
sons more convincing ? I am ashamed to allege them.
Without pretending to answer for the fact, (it is an
affair too mortifying for some of us to investigate,)

we

Great Duties of Religion J 61

we are assured, that some have perished with cold. I
do not know wlio is in fault, but I recollect the com-
plaint which St Paul addressed to the Corinthians,
when incest had been committed in their city. What !
said he, have ye heard of this deed, and have ye not
covered yourselves with mourning? 1 Cor. v. 1, 2.
What, my dear brethren, in a christian society, do we
see such events ; do we behold the poor dyin^^ with
cold, without being touched in our inmost souls, with-
out inquiring into the cause of such a misfortune,
without applying proper means to prevent such things
in future?

With this pious design, the dispensers of your
bounty will again humbly wait at the door of this
church to receive your charitable contributions, in
order to enable them to-day plentifully to supply the
wants of such as perhaps may die to-day, if they be
not relieved. With the same pious views, they have
besought the magistrates to grant them an extraordi-
nary collection, and next Wednesday they intend to
conjure you by those shocking objects, with whicli
their own minds are affected, and with which they
have thought it their duty to affect ours, to afford
such relief as may be necessary to prevent the many
€vi^s, with which the remainder of the winter yet
threatens us.

If you accuse me of applying too often to you on
this subject, I answer, my importunity is your glory.
You have affectionately habituated me to see you ac-
cessible, and myself successful, when I speak to you
on subjects of this kind. I hope I shall always find
you the same ; I hope you will not be weary in well
doings 2 Thess. ii. 13. I hope the voice of so many
wretched petitioners as beseech you by my mouth, will
not sound in vain in this christian assembly. Hear it,
you happy natives of these provinces, whom God dis-
tinguishes by so many favours. Hear it, my dear
countrymen, v/hom heaven hath enriched in your exile^

and

62 ' Great Duties of Religion,

and who, after having yourselves been a long time in
want of assistance, are now so able to assist others.
Hear it, generous strangers, who sometimes mix your
devotions with those which we offer to God in this
house ; contribute to our charities, and share with lis
the blessings which they procure. God grant us all
grace to do his will. To the Father, to the Son, and
to the Holy Ghost, be honour and glory for ever.
Amen<

SERMON

SERMON III.

The Small Duties of Religion.

Matthew xxiii. 23.

Woe unto you. Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for
ye pay tithe of mint^ anise, and cummin, and have
omitted the iveightier inatters of the law, judgment,
mercy, and faith ': these ought ye to have done, and
not to leave the other undone.

N order to form a just notion of the little duties of
religion of which we are about to treat, we must
avoid a disposition to fastidious nicety, and an incli-
nation to panics, or groundless fears.

Nothing is more opposite to the genius of religion
than what I call a fastidious nicety^ a sort of trifling
spirit. It is incompatible with the greatness of God.
whom we serve, and the excellence of rational crea-
tures, to whom religion is proposed. It is inconsist-
ent, too, with the importance of those engagements
to which the gospel calls us, and with the magnitude
of those objects which it proposes to our faith.

What condemns a trifling spirit censures also an in-
clination to groundless fears. For example, a, chris-
tian seriously prepares himself for the Lord's supper ;
when he partakes of it, a wandering thought alarms
him, and he is filled with terror, as if he had committed
a high crime against God. But can we imagine, that

64f Small Duties of Religion.

God is setting snares for us, while he is giving lis te^
kens of his love ? AVho can presume to approach th^
table of the Lord, I do not say worthily, but possibly,
if there were any ground for such panics as these ? Do
you think you do honour to God, hy attributing to
him a turn for such comparatively insignificant niceties
(forgive the expression, I cannot convey my meaning
without it), a disposition, I think, which you would
hardly suppose in a sensible man ? Can you suppose
that God loves you with less wisdom, and less con-
descension than you love your children ? Far from us
be such odious thoughts ! Remember, " the spirit which
ye have received, is not a spirit of bondage to fear ; but
a spirit of adoption," Rom. viii. \5. Remember, ye are
" not children of the bond woman ; but of the free,''
Gal. iv. 31. " Stand fast then in that inestimable li-
berty wherewith Christ hath made you free," chap. v. 1.
" Give of such things as ye have, and behold all things
are clean unto you," Luke xi. 41. Be fully persuaded
that in a religion of love, love excuses much infirmity,
and sets a value on seemingly inconsiderable actions,
which appear to have only a very remote connection
with the disposition whence they proceed.

In what then, you will ask, consist what we call
small or little duties ? What are the less weighty
things of the law, which JcvSus Christ says we ought not
to leave 2indone, after we have done the more weight if
tlmigs f My brethren, the duties of w hich we speak
to-day, ought not to be accounted little, except when
they are compared with other duties, which are of
greater importance ; and, as we said last Lord's-day,
l)ecause they are consequences more remote from ori-
ginal primitive right. However, though little duties
do not proceed so directly and immediately as great
duties do, yet do they proceed from the same origin;
and though they are not the first links of the chain of
christian virtues, yet they are as truly connected with
the origin ^s the first.

Choose,

Small Duties of Religion. 65

Choose of the list of moral virtues any one that
seems the least important, and I will justify my idea
of it. For instance, to be affable and accessible, to give
attention to the tiresome tale of a tedipus fellow
christian in some difficulty, this is one of the ve?'^ least
dudes that we can enjoin you, this is one of the less
weighty matters of the latv. Who will pretend to com-
pare this with what you ought to do for this man in
other cases ? You ought to supply his wants when he
is in a sick-bed, to defend his reputation w^hen it is
attacked, to support and provide for his family when
it falls to decay. This first little duty, however, small
as it may appear, proceeds from the same principle of
primitive law as the last great duties do. This law is
expressed in these words, All things ivhatsoever ye would
that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them, Matt,
vii. 12. Would any one of you be convinced of this ?
Put yourself in the place of this man. Suppose a per-
son elevated as much above you as you pretend to be
above him, would it not mortify you if he either refused
to hear you at all, or gave you only a careless negligent
audience ? Let each of you, my brethren, enlarge this
thought, and by applying it to himself, let him judge
whether my proposition be not sufficiently clear.

I carry my proposition further still. I affirm, not
only that there is no duty so small in the moral law^ as
not to proceed from primitive original right, but that
God never prescribed an observance so insignificant in
the ceremonial law as not to proceed from the same
origin. Thou shall love the Lord thy God icith all thy
heart, Deut. vi. 5. this is the first principle of primi-
tive law. If we ought to love God with all our hearts,
we ought carefully to observe all the means which he
hath appointed to cherish this love. Now, these means
vary according to the various circumstances in which
they to whom the means are prescribed may be. A
worship charged with ceremonies Would serve only
to extinguish emotions of love, if prescribed to people

VOL. IV. E in

66 Sinall DiUies of Religion.

in some conditions ; yet the same sort of worship wouhf
inflame the love of other people in different circum-
stances. The Jews were in the last case. Born and
brought up in slavery, employed, as they were, in
manual occupations, they would have been destitute
of all ideas under an economy without ceremonies.
Surrounded with idolatrous nations, and naturally in-
clined, as they were, to idolatry, it was necessary, in
order to prevent their copying such wretched exam-
ples, to which they had strong propensities and in-
ducements, I say, it was necessary, if I may venture
to speak so, not to give them opportunity to breathe,
to keep them constantly employed in some external
action, every moment of the time devoted to religion.
Christians, I allow, are in circumstances altogether
different. A mass of ceremonies would serve only to
veil the beauty of that God, whom no man had seen at
any time before the advent of Christ, and whom the
only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father,
hath declared, John i. 18. Whatever contributes to the
concealment of the perfections of this God damps that
love which a contemplation of them inspires. Yet, as
we are full of infirmities on this earth, we want a few
signs to produce and cherish in us the love of God.
Where is the man who is capable of a devotion all
disengaged from sense ? who can fix his eyes immedi-
ately on the sun of righteousness, Mai. iv. 2. Where
is the man who is capable of such abstract medita-
tions and pure emotions as constitute the worship of
angels and seraphim ? Alas ! my soul, how^ difficult
is recollection to thee, even with all the assistance of
a religious ceremonial ! How hard dost thou find it ta
maintain a spirit of devotion even in this place, in
this concourse of people, with all these voices, and
with those ordinances which are appointed for the
maintenance of it ! What wouldst thou do, wert thou
left to thine own meditations only, to practise a piety
altogether spiritual and free from external action ?

Let.

Small Duties of Religion. ^7

Let us finish this article. The least important parts
bf ceremonial worship, as well as the least virtues of
morality, which we call iittle duties^ or the less weighty
matters of the law, proceed from primitive law, by
consequences more remote, but as real as those of the
most important duties.

What we have been saying of the nature of little
duties demonstrates the obligation of them. They all
proceed from primitive law. Yovi cannot, therefore,
neglect the performance of them without confinmg
what ought to be infinite.

But this is too vague. We will treat of the subject
more at large, and in order to enable you more fully
to perceive your ohligation to liiile duties, 1 will speak
of them in four different views, each of which will
open a field of reflections.

I. Thev contribute to maintain a tenderness of con-
scieuGe.

II. They ai^ sources of re-conversion after great falls*

III. They make up by their frequency what is
wanting to their importance,

lY. They have sometimes characters as certain of
real love as the great duties have.

Now, my brethren, whatever engages us to the
performance of little duties must preserve us from the
commission of what the world calls little sins. This
is all I have to propose to you at present.

\. An exact performance of little duties maintains ten-
derness of conscience. By conscience I mean that instant,
and, in some sort, involuntary approbation of our
ow^n conduct when we discharge our obligations, and
that sentence of condemnation which we cannot help
denouncing against ourselves, whenever we are so un-
happy as to violate them. In the language of St
Paul, it is the work of the law written in our hearts, our
thoughts accusing or else excusing one another, Rom. ii. i 8.

2 Conscience,

f78 Small Duties of Beliglon.

Conscience, considered in this point of light, is the
same in our souls in regard to salvation as the senses
are in our bodies in reg-ard to health and life. The
office of our senses is to inform us, by the short method
of sensation, of Avhatever may be hurtful or beneficial
to our bodies. If when any exterior body approached
lis we were always obliged to measure its size, to
examine its configuration, to judge by the laws of
motion, action, and reaction, whether its approach
would be hurtful or beneficial to us, our frail machine
would be crushed to atoms before we could finish the
discussion. If it were necessary always before we
took any nourishment to examine the nature of the
aliments before us, to understand the propert^^ies and
effects of them, we should die with hunger before we
had finished our researches. God hath enabled the
senses of our bodies to supply the place of tedious dis-
cussions. This beautiful economy is never disconcerted
except when our bodies are disordered.

It is exactly the same in regard to conscience, If
always when it was necessary to determine the mora-
lity of an action, we were obliged to turn over a large
class of books, to consult our casiusts, and to examine
a whole system of rectitude, what would become of
us ? The short way of sentiment supplies the plaee ol
all this discussion. A sudden horror, excited by
the idea of a crime which we are tempted to commit,
a secret joy, excited by the idea of a virtue, which
we are going to practice, are, in urgent cases, systems,,
books, and casuists to us. When we lose this moral
sense, we lose our best guide, and are then exposed
to an infalii!)le misery of proceeding from one error
to another, from a first pernicious practice to a se-
cond, and so in the end to a gulf of final wretched-
ness.

Such being the design of conscience, the end for
which God hath appointed it, we can never be too
diligent to avoid those things which impair it, as, on

the

Small Dviies of Religion. 69

the other hand, we can never apply ourselves too
eag'crly to such practices as contribute to improve
and perfect it. Now, 1 affirm, that the first of these
effects is produced hy allowing ourselves to commit
Utile sins, and the second by an exact performance of
Utile duties. *

The commission of little sins leads on to the perpe-
tration of great crimes ; and we cannot assure our-
selves that we should religiously practise great vir-
tues, unless we scrupulously discharge other obliga-
tions comparatively small. Of the many examples
which present themselves to my mind, which shall I
select to elucidate this subject ? Where originate Ihe
vexations caused by those public robbers, who are
the scourge of many a country ? In a neglect of
small virtues, in a practising of what are called little
sins. At first the man transgressed in a small degree
the laws of frugality and modesty. Not content with
a convenient situation, he aspired to make a figure.
His table became in his eyes too plain, he wished it
might be furnished, not as formerly with plenty, but
with taste and expensive delicacy. To compass these
designs he was obliged to exceed his income. His
lawful income not being sufficient, he supplied his
pressing necessities by means which at first sight
seemed not very blameable. — He borrowed money.
After some time his creditor became troublesome, at
length formidable ; at first he solicited, at last he
threatened. The wretched debtor a while thought he
must deliver himself up to his creditor ; at length
he saw himself reduced to the necessity either of re-
trenching his expences, or of transgressing a little
the maxims of severe equity : he determined on
the last, and availed himself of the property of others
for whom he was in trust, intending, however, to
replace it the first opportunity. Such an oppor-
tunity never hapj)ened ; and the same motives that
induced him to begin this vicious course of action

engages

70 Small Duties of JReligmi:

engages him to persevere in it. Hence comes his ve^
nab'ty, hence his public frauds, hence his base inclina-
tion to make sale of both church and state whenever
he can find purchasers to come up to his price.

There is a virtue which we cannot fully treat of
without danger. To enforce the practice of some
virtues is sometimes to excite a disposition to violate
it. To describe exactly the dangers v/hich must be
avoided by those who would practise the virtue of
which I now speak, would be to increase the number
of delinquents. But whence, think ye, come the
utmost excesses of voluptuousness, and the enormous
crimes which its votaries have been capable of per^
petrating in order to cover the scandal of having
yielded to it ? Both proceed from a neglect of little
duties, and a commission of little sins. I will here
borrow the language of the most eloquent and polite
writer of his time. " Voluptuousness at first is no-
thing but an unintentional curiosity. It proceeds from
an affection apparently lawful. A little worldly com-
plaisance mixes with it. The mind by little and little
turns to its object ; the heart softens and dissolves.
Means to please are sought. Inquietude follov/s and
presses. Sight kindles desire. Desire engages to see,
Certain vague wishes, at first not perceived, form
themselves in the soul. Hence criminal familiaritiesj
scandalous intrigues, continual agitations, and all the
other consequences of a passion, fatal, restless, and
unsatisfied, whether it be gratified or not." *

So true is what we have affirmed, that by neglect-
ing the least virtues we acquire a habit of neglecting
others of the greatest importance. So true is it, that
we prepare ourselves to practice the greatest crimes,
by practising what are called little sins. We conclude,
then, that exactness in performing little duties cherishes
tenderness of conscience. This is our first reflection.

II. We

^ Flechier. Panegyr. de St Bernard.

Small Duties of Religion. */ 1

II. We affirm, in the second place, that small duties
are sources of re-conversion after great falls. Some pas-
sages of scripture have occasioned a difficult case of
conscience, which is this : Is the practice of little du-
ties altogether useless to those who neglect great ones;
and, all things considered, would it not be better for a
man who neglects the important obligations, to omit the
performance of small duties, than practise the last,
while he neglects the first ? This question rises out of
these passages. " To what purpose is the multitude of
your sacrifices to me ? saith the Lord. I am full of the
jjurnt-offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts, and I
delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of
he goats. When ye come to appear before me, wlio hath
required this at your hand to tread my courts ? Bring
no more vain oblations, incense is an abomination unto
me, the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assem-
blies, I cannot away with," Isa. i. 11 — 13. " The sacri-
fice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord." Prov.
XV. 8. " I spake not unto your fathers in the day that
I brought them out of the land of Egypt concerning
burnt-offerings and sacrifices; but this thing commanded
I them, saying. Obey my voice," Jer. vii. 22, 23. " He
that killeth an ox, is as if he slew a man ; he that sa-
crificeth a lamb, as if he had cut off a dog's neck ; he
that oflereth an oblation, as if he offered swine's blood;
he that burneth incense, as if he blessed an idol," Isa.
Ixvi. 3. " Unto the wicked, saith God, What hast
thou to do to declare my statutes, or thattbou shouldest
take my covenant in thy mouth?" Psal. 1. 16.

These passages, which might be easily multiplied,
seem to determine the question that was just now pro-
posed, and to establish the opinion of those who affirm,
that men ought either to leave ofl' the practice of small
duties, if they determine to neglect great obligations,
or to perform great obligations if they continue to
practise small duties. There are, however, some ce-
lebrated casuists, whose morality in some cases may
deserve censure, although they are not censured at

Rome,

Small Duties of Religi

ton.

Home, except for what merits applause ; these casuists,
I say, have decided the question differently, and I can-
not help submitting to their reasons. I have more
hope of a man who attends public worship, though he ,
derive no advantage from it, than of him who hath
resolved for ever to absent himself. I have more
hope of a man who performs only the most super-
ficial parts of the laws of benevolence, than of him
who resolves to violate these, and all the rest too. J
have more hope of him who suspends the exercise of
his passions on]y the day before and the day after
his participation of the Lord's supper, than of him
who excommunicates himself and his whole family for
ever. I have more reason to hope for him who,
having made great sacrifices for the doctrines of reli-
gion, violates the precepts of it, than for him who
both violates the precepts and abjures the doctrines.
Not that I affirm, either that it is sufficient to per-
form small duties while we persist in a neglect of gieat
obligations, or that the performance of the former is
not detestable when we perform them carelessly and
hypocritically. This, I think, is the key of the pas-
sages just now quoted. These small duties are re-
mains of spiritual life in such as practise them ; dying
remains, I allow, but precious remains, however ; and
the state of these people is preferable to the condition
of the other persons in question, whom death has
enveloped in its dismal shade. Preserve, carefully
preserve these precious remains, whatever just grounds
of fear of your salvation may accompany them^ Do
not extinguish this wick, though it only sinokes. Matt,
xii. 20. Perhaps an idea of the sacrifices Which you
have made for the doctrines of religion, may incline
you at last to submit to the precepts of it. Perhaps
self-examination, superficial as it is, preparatory to
the Lord's supper, may at some time or other lead you
into reflections more deep and serious. Possibly, the
sermons which now you attend only to satisfy some

" " transient

Small Jf)uties of Religion. 73

transient emotions of conscience, may in the end arouse
your consciences effectually.

ill. Small duties compensate hy their repetition, for
what is wanting to their importance. We are not called
every day to make great sacrifices to order ; we are
seldom required to set up the standard of the cross in
barbarous climes, to sound the gospel to the ends of
the world, and to accomplish the promises made to
Jesus Christ, that he should have " the heathen for his
inlieritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his
possession," Psal. ii. 8. Seldom are we called to dare
executioners, to triumph va cruel sufferings and death,
to confess Christ amidst fires and flames. We are
rarely called to the great actions that make heroes ; to
die for our neighbours; to sacrifice ourselves for the pu-
blic good ; and to devote ourselves for our country.

If we are seldom required to perform great duties,
thanks be to God we are seldom tempted to commit
great crimes, to deceive a friend, to betray a trust, to
reveal a state-secret, to make a sale of justice, to per-
plex truth, or to persecute innocence. But in what
moment of each day do we not meet with opportunities
to commit little sins, and to perform duties of compa-
ratively small importance ?

Are vou confined at home ? You have little incon-
veniences to suffer, little perverse humours to bear
with, little provocations to impatience to resist, little
disgusts to endure.

Are you in company ? You have a few captious
tempers to manage, idle reports to discountenance, a
few pernicious maxims to combat, profane actions to
censure ; sometimes you are obliged to resist iniquity
boldly, and at other times to affect to tolerate it, in
order to obtain an opportunity to oppose it on a future
opportunity with greater probability of success.

Do you prosper ? What a source of little duties is
prosperity, if we sincerely love virtue ? And what a

source

74 Small Duties of Religion.

source o^ little sins, if we are not always guarded against
temptations to vice ? Now a little air of self-sufficiency-
inclines to solitude, then a little eagerness to shine im-
pels to society. Here a little necessary expence must
be incurred, there another expence must be avoided.
Here something is due to rank, and must be observed,
there rank would be disgraced, and something must
be omitted.

Are you in adversity, under misfortunes, or sickness?
How many miserable comforters ? How many dis-
gustful remedies ? What intolerable wearinesses ? So
many articles, so many occasions to perform little du-
ties, and to commit little sint5.

Opportunities to commit little sins return every day^
I may almost say, every moment of every day. A
little sin is a little poison, slow indeed, but continually
insinuating itself into the soul, till by degrees it issues
in death. A man who does not watch against little
sins, is liable to provoke God as often as an occasion
to commit them presents itself. On the contrary, a
man who makes conscience of practising little duties
as well as great ones, finds every day, and every mo-
ment, opportunities of giving God proofs of his love.
He hath not only a religion of times and circumstances,
which is sometimes justly suspected, but a religion of
influence that diffuseth itself into every part of his life.
There is not a moment in which he doth not make
some progress in his heavenly course. By his atten-
tion to evei-y little duty, he discharges the greatest of
all duties, that which St Paul prescribes to all chris-
tians, " Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do,
do all to the glory of God," 1 Cor. x. 3 1 . He is an exact
imitator of Jesus Christ, " the author and finisher of his
faith, who went about doing good," Heb. xii. 2. like
him he can say, " I have set the Lord always before me ;
because he is at my right hand I shall never be moved,"
Psal. xvi. 8. Had I not reason to afiirm, that little du-
ties compensate, by the frequency of their return, for
what is wanting to constitute their importance ?

IV. Our

Sinall Duties of Religion, 75

IV. Our third reflection leads us to a fourth. Little
duties have sometimes characters more evident of real
love to God, than the most impo?iant duties have. If
hypocrisy, if false ideas of religion, sometimes produce
little duties, it must be also allowed, that secular motives,
interest and vain glory, sometimes give birth to great
exploits. Pride, without any mixture of love to order,
is sometimes sufficient to engage us to make those
great sacrifices of which w^e just now spoke. Some-
times nothing but an extreme and refined attachment
to virtue can animate us to perform little duties.
There is sometimes more genuine benevolence in ac-
cepting such tokens of gratitude as a poor man gives
for a favour conferred on him than in conferring the
favour itself. There is sometimes more humility in
receiving the praise from a man whose esteem flatters
our vanity a little, than in refusing to hear it. After
all, though the love of God differs in many respects
from mere worldly esteem, yet there are some resemr
blances. We often think ourselves obliged to render
considerable services to people for whom we have no
great regard ; but it is only for such as we hold in
the highest veneration that we feel certain little at-
tachments, 'certain little attentions, certain solicitudes,
which indeed are called little in usual phrase, but
which are strong demonstrations of the tender senti-
ments of the soul. It is just the same with divine love.
But this is one of those truths of sentiment and expe-
rience, which each of you may understand better by
consulting the history of his own life, and by ^vatch-
ing the motions of his own heart, than by attending to
our syllogisms and discussions.

Perhaps you may imagine God cannot, without de-
basing his Majesty, -cast his eyes on those insignificant
actions which we are recommending to you. But
undeceive yourselves. What could be less consider-
able than those tivo mites which the poor widow in
the gospel cast into the treasury ? Mark xii. 42. Yet

we

76 Small Duties of Religion.

we know what Jesus Christ thought of that action.
What service less considerable could be rendered Jesus
Christ just before his death, than to pour ointment on
his head ? The apostles had indignation within them-
selves at this unseasonable ceremony, chap.xiv. 13. he.
They were angry with the woman for diverting the
attention of Jesus Christ from those great objects with
which his whole soul had been filled. But he reproved
them. "Why trouble ye the woman?" said he ; she hath
performed an action worthy of emulation. " Verily I
say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached
throughout the whole world, this also that she hath
done shall be spoken of, for a memorial of her." What
can be less considerable in itself than a cup of cold
water ? Yet Jesus Christ promises to reward even this
with eternal life, when it is given from a principle of
real piety. We said before, my brethren, and allow us
to repeat it again, in a religion of love, whatever
proceeds from a principle of love hath an intrinsic
value.

I unite now the subjects of both the discourses,
which I have addressed to you, on the words of my
text, and, by collecting both into one point of view,
I ask. What idea ought you to form of a religion
which exhibits a morality so pure and complete ? What
idea of the preaching of those ministers, who are
called to instruct you in it ? What idea of the engage-
ments of such disciples as profess to submit to the dis-
cipline of it ?•

What idea ought you to form of a religion that
prescribes a morality so pure and complete ? The
christian religion requires each of us to form, as well
as he can, just notions of primitive law : to observe all
the consequences, and to place each virtue that pro-
ceeds from primitive right, in its just order ; to give
the first rank to those virtues which immediately pro-
ceed from it, and the second to those which proceed
from it mediately and remotely. Christianity re-
quires

1?'

Small DuUes of Religion. 77

quires us to regulate our application to each virtue, by
the place which each occupies in this scale ; to set no
bounds to the loving of that God, whose perfections
are infinite ; to entertain only a limited esteem for
finite creatures ; to engage our senses in devout exer-
cises, but to take care that they are held under go-
vernment by our minds ; to sing the praises of the
Lord with our voices, but animated with our affec-
tions ; in short, to look toward heaven, but to let in-
ward fervour produce the emotion, determine the di-
rection, and fix the eye.

How amiable would society be, if they who com-
pose it were all followers of this religion ! How
happy would it be to make treaties, to form alliances,
to unite ourselves, by the most affectionate and indis-
soluble ties, to men inviolably attached to this reli-
gion ! Had not God shaken nature, and subverted
kingdoms, or, in the language of a prophet, had he not
" shaken the heavens and the earth, and the sea, and
the dry land," Hag. ii. 6. to establish this religion in
the world, yet it ought to be held in the highest esti-
mation for its o\^'n intrinsic w orth. How can Ave heJp
being filled Avith indignation at those abominable men,
who, in spite of all the demonstrations of the divine
origin of this religion, place their glory in w^eakening
its empire over the heart !

2. But if you form such noble ideas of a religion,
the morality of which is so extensive and so pure,
AN hat ideas ought you to form of the ^re«cA???^ of those
Avho are appointed to instruct you in it ? Which Avay,
think you, ought they to bend their force ? What kind
of questions ought they to propose in the christian
pulpit ? Under Avhat point of vicAv ought they to con-
sider the texts, Avhich make the matter of their dis-
courses ? Are they required to excite your astonish-
ment by flights of imagination, or to gratify your
curiosity by a display of their profound erudition ?
Does not their office rather require them to employ

all

is Small Duties of Religion.

all the times you allow them to free you from yoiif
prejudices, to take off those scales from your eyes,
which prevent your perceiving " the things which be-
long unto your everlasting peace, Luke xix. 42. and to
give you such directions as you may follow, as far as
can be in the tumult of the world, whither either your
inclinations or your necessities call you.

My brethren, while I was meditating on my text,
two methods of discussing it presented themselves to
my mind.

Following the first of these plans, I divided my
discourse into three parts, according to the three parts,
that is, the three different herbs mentioned in the text.
Each of these parts I subdivided into three more.
First, I examined the force, the signification, the de-
rivation of the original term, and I inquired whether
the word were rightly rendered vrnit. I quoted various
opinions on this subject, for interpreters are very much
divided about it. According to the Ethiopic version,
Jesus Christ spoke of hijssop ; and according to other
versions, some other plant. Secondly, I examined
the nature the uses, the properties of the herb, to
which I had restored the true name, and here I heaped
up a great number of passages from Aristotle, Pliny,
Solinus, Salmasius, and many other authors, who have
rendered themselves famous by this kind of erudition.
Thirdly, having studied 7nint as a critic and as a natu-
ralist, I proceeded at length to examine it as a divine.
I inquired why God demanded tithe of this herb.
Perhaps, thought I, here may be some mystery in this
affair. I say perhaps, for I acknowledge myself a mere
novice in this science, as in a great many others.
However, there may be some mysteries in this offer-
ing. I was certain, if imagination supplied the place
of reason, and flights of fancy were put instead of
facts, it would not he impossible to find mysteries here.
If this herb be sweet, said I, it may represent the
sweetness of mercy ; if it be bitter, it may signify the

m bitterness

Small Duties of Religion. 7^

bitterness of justice. If Jesus Christ meant 7/^\?.yojD, as
some think, it was that very herb of which the famous
bunch was made, that was dipped in the blood of
sparrows at the purification of lepers. What mysteries !
\\liat I had done with jnint under the first head, I did
over again under the second article anise^ and the same
over again under the third i>ead cummin. This was
my first plan of discussion.

The second method was that which I have chosen.
In a former discourse on this text, we endeavoured to-
convince you that you were under an indispensible
obligation to perform the great duties of religion. In
this we have been endeavouring to obtain your regard
to the little duties of religion ; to engage you to sub-
mit to the laws of God, even in things of the least im-
portance ; and thus to give you a complete chain of
christian virtues.

My brethren, God forbid that our discourses, which
ought always to be animated Avith a spirit of benevo-
lence, should at any time degenerate into satire, and
that we should enjoy a malicious pleasure in exploding
the method of those who entertain ideas different from
ours on the best manner of preaching. I grant birth,
education, and a course of study, have a great deal of
influence over us in this respect. But, in the name of
God, do not condemn us for treating you like rational
creatures, for addressing to you, as to intelligent
beings, the words of an apostle. We " speak as to wise
men, judge ye what we say," 1 Cor. x. 15. Judge
what are the obligations of the ministers of a religion,
the morality of which is so extensive and pure.

3. Finally, What idea ought you to form of the en-
gagements of such disciples as profess to give them-
selves up to this religion, the morality of which we
have been describing ? Where are the christians who
have this complete chain of the virtues of Christianity ?
Where shall we find christians, who, after they have
performed, with all due attention, the great duties,

hold

80 Small Duties of Religl

ion.

hold themselves bound by an inviolable law not W
neglect the least ? Alas! we are always complaining
of the weight of the yoke of the Lord ! We are perpe-
tually exclaiming, like the profane Jews mentioned by
Malachi, " Behold what a weariness it is !" chap. i. 13.
We dispute the ground with God ! It should seem he
hath set too high a price on heaven. We are always
ready to curtail his requisitions. What ! say we, can-
not he be contented with this ? will he not be satisfied
with that ?

Ah ! my dear brethren, let us open our eyes to our
interest : let us obey the laws of God without reserve :
let us observe alike the most important virtues which
he hath prescribed to us, and those which are least im-
portant. We ought to do so, not only because he is
our master, but because he is our father, because he
proposes no other end but that of rendering us happy ;
and because so much as we retrench our duties, so
much we diminish our happiness. To this God, whose
love is always in union with justice, be honour and
glory, dominion and majesty, both now and for ever
Amen.

SERMON

SERMON IV.

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked

Revelation xxi. 7, 8.

He that overcoineth shall inherit all th'mgs, and I will
^ be his Gody and he shall be my son. But the fearful ^
and the nnbelievitig, and the abominable, and mur-
derers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idola-
ters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake
which burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the
second death.

TT is a subject deserving the most profound reflec-
tions, my brethren, that the most irregular being,
1 mean the devil, is at the same time the most miser-
able, and that the most holy Being, he who is holy by
excellence, is at the same tim€ the most happy, and
thus unites in his own essence supreme holiness with
sovereign happiness. Satan^ who began his audacious
projects in heaven, the habitation of holiness, 2 Chron.
XXX. 27. Satan, who rebelled against God amidst the
most noble displays of his magnificence, and who is
still a murderer and a liar, John viii. 4?4. Satan is in the
depth of miserp He was hurled down from a pin-
nacle of glory, expelled for ever from the society of
Uie blessed, and there is a lake of fire prepared for him
and his angels. Matt. xxv. 4 1 . God is the most holy
.Being. Indeed, the terms virtue and holiness are very
VOL. IV. ^ equivocal,

82 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked,

equivocal when applied to an independent beings
whose authority is absolute, who has no law but his
own wisdom, no rules of rectitude but his own voli-
tions. Yet, order, whatever is sublime in what we
mortals call holiness, virtue, justice, eminently dwells
in tlie Deity, and forms one grand and glorious object
of the admiration and praise of the purest intelligences,
who incessantly make it the matter of the songs which
they sing to his honour, and who cry day and night
one to another, " Great and marvellous are thy works,
Lord God Almighty. O Lord, thou king of saints,
wiio shall not fear thee and glorify thy name ? For
thou only art holy ; for all nations shall come and
w^orship before thee," Rev. xv. 3, 4. This Being, so
holy, so just ; this Being who is the source of holiness,
justice, and virtue ; this Being possesses at the same
time the highest possible happiness. He is, in the
language of scripture, the happy God *, and, as I said
before, he unites in his own essence supreme holiness
with supreme happiness.

What boundless objects of contemplation would
this reflection open to our view, my brethren, were it
necessary to pursue it ? Consider it only in one point
of light. The destination of these two beings so dif-
ferent, is, if I may be permitted to say so, the rule of
the destination of all intelligent beings. All things
considered, the more we partake of the impurity of
Satan, i\\Q more we partake of his misery. It would
be absurd to suppose, that in thejime of the restiiidiori,
of ail things, Acts iii. 21. which will soon arrive, and
justify providence against the innumerable censures
passed upon it, it would be absurd to suppose, that if
we have appro])riated the irregularities of the impure
spirit we should not at that time partake of his misery ;
and it would be absurd to suppose, that vv e can partake
of the virtues of the holy Being, without participating
biy felicity and glory.

Eacli

• * 1 Tim. i. 11. See Vci. I. p. 91. note. Serijii 2. On the Eter=

ililrofGcd, ■ '

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. 8S

Each part of these propositions is contained in the
words of my text. He tliat overcometh, he who in
this world of obstacles to virtue shall take the holiness
of God for his rule, as far as it is allowiible for frail
creatures to regulate themselves by an example so
perfect and sublime, he that overcometh shall have no
bounds set to his happiness, lie shallinherit all thing6\
'^e shall enter into the family of God himself. " I will
be his God, and he shall be my son. But the fearful
and unbdieving, and the abominable, and murderers,
and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and
ill! liars," of what order soever they be, all those who
do " the works of the devil," shall be placed in a con-
dition like his, " shall have their part in the lake which
burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second
death."

We invite you to day to meditate on these truths,
•and in order to reduce the subject to the size of a
single sermon, we will only insist on such articles of
the morality of St John as are least known and most
disputed. We will distinguish in this system such
virtues to be practised, and such vices to be avoided
as are most opposite to those prejudices which the
world usually forms concerning tlie final doom of
mankind.

I. The ^irst prejudice which we intend to attack is
this, A life spent in ease and idleness is ?iot incovijxUible
with salvatioji, if ii he free from great crimes. Against
this we oppose this part of our text, " He that over-
cometh shall inherit." In order to inherit, we must
overcome. Here vigilance, action, and motion are
supposed.

II. The second prejudice is this, A just God will not
impute to his creatures sins of infirmity and constitution^
though his creatures' sho'idd he subject to them during the
whole course of their lives. Against this we oppose
these words of the apostle, " The fearful and whore-
mongers shall have their part in the lake which burneth

^wjth fire and brimstone."

9. Ill The

S4> The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

III. The third pi-ejudice is this, Speculative errors
cannot he attended with any fatal consequences^ provided
we live xiprighthj^ as it is called, and discharge our social
duties. Against this we oppose this word, the un-
believing. The unbelieving are put into the class of
the miserable.

IV. The fourth prejudice is this, Religions are in^.,
different. The mercij of God extends to those who live
in the most erroneous communions. Against this we
oppose the word idolaters. Idolaters are considered
among the most criminal of mankind.

V. The last prejudice is this, None hut the vulgar
ought to he afraid of committing certain crimes. Kings
will he judged hij a particular laiv : the greatness of the
motive that inclined them to manage some affairs of state
will plead their excuse, and secure them from divine
vengeance. Against this w^ oppose these words,
aho?ninahl-e, poisoners^', and all liars, which three
words include almost all those abominations which
are called illustrious crimes. However, these abomi-
nable, these poisoners, and all these liars, shall have,
as well as the fearful, the unbelieving, the unclean,
and the idolaters, '•' their part in the lake which
burneth with fire and brimstone."

I. Let us begin with the first prejudice. A life
spent in ease and idleness is not incomj)aiihle with salva-
tion, if it he free from great crimes. St John takes away
this unjust pretext, by considering salvation as a prize
to be obtained by conquest. He who overcometh, im-
plies vigilance, activity, and motion. Two considera-
tions will place the meaning of our apostle in the
clearest light. We take the first from the nature of
evangelical virtues, and the second from the nature of
those vices which are forbidden in the gospel.

1 . The nature of evangelical virtues demands vigi-
lance,

* Poisoners. (pa^LiAKivc-i. Veneficis. Incantatoribus. Qui malis^
magiae artibus utuntur. The French bibles read cmpoisonneur's,
poisoners, •

^jThe Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. S3

lance, action, and motion. It is impossible to exercise
these virtues under the influence of indolence, idleness,
and ease. Let us examine a few of these virtues.

What is the love of God ? It is that disposition of
the soul which inclines us to adore his perfections, to
admire with the highest joy his glorious attributes, and
to desire with the utmost ardour to be closely united
to him as to our supreme good ; but this disposition
cannot be exercised, it cannot be acquired without
vigilance, action, and motion. We must meditate on
that sovereign jiower which formed this universe by
a single volition, and by a single volition determined
its doom. We must meditate that supreme wisdom
which regulates all the works of supreme power, com-
bining causes with effects, and means with ends, and
which by this infinite combination hath always ad-
justed, and continues to arrange and direct all the
works which we behold, and others without number
which lie beyond the utmost stretch of our imagina-
tion. We must meditate on that perfect justice which
is engraven on all the productions of the Creator, on
all the conduct of providence, and remarkably on the
consciences of mankind, which continually accuse or
excuse th^iY actions, Ilom. ii. 1.5. Conscience is either
tortured with remorse or involved in delight, according
as we have been attached to virtue, or violated it. We
must meditate on that infinite goodness which is ovej-
all his works, Psal. cxlv. 9. We must not only consider
this palace where God hath lodged man, a palace of
delights before the entrance of sin, but which, since
that fatal period, is, alas ! nothing but a theatre, and,
if I may express myself so, an universal scaffold, on
which he exercises the most terrible vengeance, and
exhibits his most dreadful executions. We must en-
ter, moreover, into the genius of religion ; know the
power of that arm which he exerts to deliver us from
bondage ; the power of those succours which he af-
fords to enable us to triumph over our depravity ; the

excellence

86 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

excellence of revealed mysteries ; the value of the
pardon set before us ; the pleasure and peace poured
into our souls ; and the magnificence of such objects
as the gospel proposes to our hopes. All this requires^^
vigilance, action, and motion. Nothing of this can
be acquired under the influence of indolence, idleness,
and ease. Nothing of this can be done in the circlesy
of pleasure, at gaming tables, or in places of publicr
diversion.

What is /t/z?/i ? It is that disposition of our souls
"which brings into caj)tivitij everif thought to the obedience
of Christ, 2 Cor, x. 5. and subjects them all to his de-
cisions. In order to this, we must be convinced that
God hath not left men to their natural darkness, but
hath bestowed on them the light of divine revelation.
We must examine this revelation and understand the
proofs of its divinity. We must collect into one body
the fundamental truths included in it, Wc must re-
move or invalidate those glosses which false teachers
have applied to perplex the meaning of it. We must
understand how to be deaf to every voice except that
of eternal truth ; and to say fram the bottom of a soul
saturated with the love of this truth, Speak, Lord, for
thy servants hear, 1 Sam. iii. 9. All this requires vi-
gilance, action, and motion. Nothing of this can be
acquired under the influence of indolence, idleness,
and ease. Nothing of this can be done in circles of
pleasure, at gaming tables, or m places of public di-
version.

What is benevolence ? It is that dLsposition of soul
which engages us to consider our neighbour as our-
selves, and to study his interest as our own. In order
to this we must examine both his temporal and spiri-
tual wants. If he be in a state of indigence, we must
provide for him, either at our expence, or by exciting"
in his favour the compassion of others. When he is
ignorant we must inform him, when in an error
undeceive him, wheiv he strays we must recal him,

when

^he Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked, 8T

when his spirits are overwhelmed, comfort him ; Ave
must visit him when he is confined, edify him by our
conduct, iand encourage him by our example. All this
demands vigilance, action, and motion. Nothing of
this can be acquired under the influence of indolence,
idleness^ and ease. Nothing of this can be done in
circles of pleasure, at gaming tables, or at places of
public diversion.

What is repentance ? It is that disposition of our
soul, which makes the remembrance of our sins a
source of the bitterest grief. This supposes many
self-examinations and self-condemnations, much re-
morse of conscience, many tears shed into the bosom
of God, many hiethods tried to preclude falling again
into iins, the remembrance of which is so grievous to
us. Above all, this virtue supposes recompences in
great number. If we have propagated any maxims
injurious to religion, reparation must be made ; for
how can we be said to repent of having advanced such
maxims, except v/e abjure them, and exert all our
influence to remove such fatal effects as they have
produced? If we have injured the reputation of a
neighbour, recompence must be made ; for how can
we repent of having injured the reputation of a neigh-
bour, unless we endeavour to establish it, and to re-
store as much credit to him as we have taken away ?
Repentance also includes restitution of property, '^ if
we have taken any thing from any man," Lukexix. 8.
All the exercises of this virtue require vigilance, ac-
tion, and motion. None of these are acquired under
the influence of indolence, idleness, and Ccise. Nore
of these are practised in circles of pleasure^ at gaming
tables, or at places of public diversion.

2. Even the nature of those vices W' hich-4:he gospel
forbids, demonstrate that a life wasted in idleness is
incompatible with salvation. He who hath w^ell
studied the human heart, and hath carefully exami ed
the causes of so many resolutions broken by the grea es;

saints.

88 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

saints, so many promises forgotten, so many vows
violated, so many solemn engagements falsified, will
acknow ledge, that these disorders seldom proceed from
malice, yea, seldom from a want of sincerity and good
faith. You often fall into temptations which you
mean to resist. Your misfortune is, that you are not
sufficiently prepared for resistance. Hoav, for instance^
can we resist temptations to pride,unless we closeevery
avenue by w hicb it enters into the heart ; unless we
make serious reflections on the meanness of Our origi-
nal, the uncertainty of our knowledge, the imperfection
of our virtue, the enormity of our crimes, and the va-
nity of our riches, titles, dignity, and life ? Again,
how can we resist the sophisms of error, if w^e have
only a superficial knowledge of religion, if we do not
build our faith on foundations immoveable and firm.
In fine, how can we resist sensual temptations, unless
we endeavour to dethrone our passions, unless we fre-
quently and boldly attack and subdue them, assuage
their fury, and force them as it were to bow to the
dominion of reason ,?

. This prejudice refutes itself. They wlio adopt it
furnish us with weapons against themselves. An idle
life is compatible with salvation, say you, provided it
be free from great crimes. But I say, an idle life
cannot be free from great crimes. Indolence is af
source of great wickedness, and vigilance and activity
are necessary to prevent the exercise of it.

Let us not pass over these reflections lightly, my
brethren. The prejudice which we are attacking is
very important in its consequences ; it is a fatal pre-
judice, sapping the very foundations of christian mo>
rality. It is not a particular prejudice, confined with-
in a narrow circle ; it is general, even among chris-
tians, and spread far and wide. It is not a prejudice
secretly revolved in the mind, and covered with a
blushing veil ; but it is a bold notorious prejudice, and
christians exalt it into a maxim of religion, and a

first

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicfced, 8^

nrst principle of morality. This is the prejudice of
that vain wordly woman, who, having' rapidly read
a few devotional books, and hastily repeated a lew
prayers, which proceeded less from her heart than her
lips, spends one part of her life in places of public
diversion, and the other in making art supply the place
of nature, in disguising' her personal defects, and in
trying whether by borrowed ornaments she can ob-
tain from the folly of men such incense as she offers to
herself, such as she derives from her own immoderate
vanity and self-admiration. This is the prejudice of
that soldier who, at the end of a campaign, or at the
conclusion of a peace, thinks he may employ the rest
of his life in relating his adventures, and indemnify
himself for his former dangers and fatigues by an idle-*
ness which is often a burden to those who are wit-
nesses of it, and oftener still to himself, who petrifies
in his own tales. This is the prejudice of a great
many people, who have nothing else to say to their
preachers, to all their casuists, and to all their reli-
gious instructors, but, I wrong nobody, I do no harm
Shall I venture to say my brethren. Why don't you
do a little harm ? I have, I declare, more hope of a
man who, in a high fever, becomes so delirious, and
apparently so mad, that the strongest persons can
hardly hold him, than I have of a lethargic patient,
all whose senses are stupified, his spirits sunk, and his
natural warmth gone. I have more hope for a sinner,
who, in a violent passion, breaks the most sacred laws,
and tramples on the most solemn engagements, than I
have for a man, indolent, motionless, cold, insensible
to all the motives of religion, and to all the stings of
conscience.

My brethren, let us not deceive ourselves : there i$
something of consequence to do in every moment of
a christian life. There are always in a christian' life
temptations to be resisted, and consequently in every
moment of a christian life ive must overcome these temp-
tations.

90 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked,

tations. All ages require action. In every stage of
life we have temptations to surmount, and in every
stage of life we must overcome them. We must over^
come the temptations of childhood, the temptations
of youth, the temptations of old age. All condition^
jrequire action. We mvist surmount some tempta-
tions in all conditions, and in all conditions we must
overcome them. We must overcome the temptations
of poverty, those of prosperity, those of elevated
posts, and those which belong to a state of obscurity,
a sort of death, a kind of grave. All professions re-
quire action. There are in all professions tempta-
tions to be surmounted, and in all professions we must
overcome them. The statesman must subdue the
temptations of his profession, the soldier must van-
quish the temptation of his, the merchant of his, and
so of the rest. All situations require action. In all
situations there are temptations to be conquered,
and in all situations we must overcome them. We
must get above the temptations of health, those of
sickness, and those of death. He that overcometh shall
inherit all things.

I am well aware that to preach this gospel is, in
the opinion of some, to teach a severe morality, to
mark out a discouraging course, to invite to vmequal
combats. This morality, however, will seem severe
only to lukewarm christians. This course will ap-
pear discouraging only to soft and indolent souls^
These combats will seem unequal only to such as have
no true courage, listless and dastardly souls. A real
christian will be so inflamed with the love of his God,
he will be 'attracted by so many powerful and comfort-
aljle motives, above all, he will be animated with a
desire so strong to obtain a victory, which infallibly
follows the combat, that nothing will appear severe,
nothing discouraging, nothing unequal in the course
of obtaining it. What dominion over his heart will
not that voice obtain, which, proceeding from the

mouth

The Doom of the Righteous cmd the Wicked, 91

mouth of the author and finisher of his faith, addresses
him, and says, " he that overcometh shall inherit all
thing's," Heb. xii. 2.

Christian soul dost thou complain of the battle-?
But in order to conquer you must fight. The glori--
fied saints were once warriors, and are now conquer-
ors. Flesh and blood, earth and hell, were their ene-
mies. Faith and love, and all other christian virtues,
were their armour. The clouds were their triumphal
chariots. Angels, thousands of angels, " ten thousand
times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands,"
Rev. V. 21. who wait continually before Gcd, were
their witnesses. The approbation of the Son of God>
this rapturous declaration, " Well done, good and
faithful servant," Matt. xxv. 23, well done, faithful
confessor, thou hast nobly endured the cross ; well
done, martyr for morality, thou hast caused concupi-
scence to yield to the commandments of God ; these
extatical declarations were their crown. Jesus Christ
is their rewarder, and joys unspeakable and full of
glory, peace of soul, tranqviiility of conscience, river:^
of \)\edi?>\\vQ:, fulness of joij at God's right hand for ever--
more, the citij that hath foundations, Jerusalem which is
aljovc, the heavcnlij country/, new heavens and a netv
earth, the society of angels, perfect knowledge, refined
virtues, ineffable sensations, sacred flames, God him-
self ; Lo ! these are the recompence, these their great
reward. He that overcometh shall inherit all things ; I
will be his God, and ha shall be my son.

n. The second prejudice which we are endeavour-
ing to remove is this, A just God cannot mipiite to his
creatures sins of infirmitij and constitution, though Aiv
crecdures should be subject to them duri?igthe whole course
of their lives. Against this Vv-e oppose tliese v/ords of
the apostle, the fearful and the ujicleanj^ The mosf.

frequent

* Uo^fiSig. Oirr translation renders it n'lioretrLOfigers—^ihe old
French bibles paillards^-^Mr Sanrin more accurately iTnpjtrs — iv ft.

92 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked;

frequent excuse for impurity is constitution. A cer-
tain constitutional turn is generally considered as a
ground of justification ; and it is eagerly maintained,
lest we should be obliged to be holy for want of ex-
cuses to sin, and least the deceitful pleasures of sin
should be embittered by remorse. Yet the unclean
shall have their part in the lake that hurneth wlihjire
and brimstone. As to fearfulness, or timidity, what is
there in us, that can be more properly called human
frailty than this ? Let us hear St John. Whom does
lie mean by the fearful? I fear we shall find several
classes of these in religion. There are many sorts of
the fearful, who shall have their part in the lake which
hurneth with fire and brimstone.

For example, a man who hears the name of God
blasphemed, religion opposed, good manners attacked,
but who hath not the courage to confess Jesus Christy
to say, I am a christian, and to manifest his indigna-
tion against such odious discourses, such a man is
fearfd, he shall have no part in the inheritance of the
children of God. A man who sees his neighbour
wounded by calumny and slander, but who hath not
courage to reprove the slanderer, though in his soul
he detests him, such a man is one of the fearful, who
shall have no part in the inheritance of the children of
God. A magistrate who hath received from God
the sword for the protection of oppressed widows and
Orphans, but who, terrified with the rank of the op-
pressor, sacrifices to him the rights of widows and or-
phans, such a man is fearful, he shall have no part in
the inheritance of the children of God.

But, though these notions of fearfulftess are just,
and though the proposition in our text is true in all
these senses, it is clear, I think, by the circumstances
in which St John wrote the revelation, by the per-
secutions which he foretold, by the exhortations
which he addressed to believers to surmount them,
and by many other considerations that the holy man

ha3

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. 9S

had particularly, and perhaps only, thht fearfulness in
view, which induces some to deny that truth for fear
of persecution, of which they were thoroughly per-
suaded, Of this sort of fearful ^persons he affirms,
•' tliey shall have their part in the lake which burur
eth with fire and brimstone."

There is, I acknowledge, an equivocalness in the
terms, or rather in the proposition, which may render
this article obscure, and those which follow more so.
AVhen it is said, that " the fearful, the unbelieving, and
the abominable, that murderers and poisoners shall
have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and
brimstone," we are not to understand either such as
have once committed any of these crimes, or such as
have lived some time in the practice of any one of them,
but have afterwards repented. Were we to condemn
to eternal flames all such persons as these, alas ! who
could escape ? Not Moses ; he was sometimes uyibe-
lieving. Not St Peter ; he was sometimes fearful.
Not David ; he committed murder, was guilty of lying,
abomination, and impiiriti/. Not any of you, my
brethren ; there is not one of you whose conscience
does not reproach him with having done some act of
fearfulness, unbelief and impuriii). Heaven forbid,
we should have to reproach any of you with forming
the act into a habit !

St John speaks then, in this place, of those only
who live in a habit of these vices. But, I repeat it
again, although this evil habit may originate in hu-
man frailty, yet it is certainly that sort of fearfulness
which we have been explaining ; it is that fearfulness
with which tyrants inspire such as ought to confess the
truth. Ask those of our brethren, for whom we utter
the deepest sighs, and shed the bitterest tears, what
prevents their giving glory to God, by yielding to the
exhortations which we have so long addressed to
them, and which we daily continue to address to them.
They tell you it is hiunan frailty. Ask that head of^

a family

94* The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked,

a family why he doth not flee to some place where he
might enjoy such a puhlic worship as he approves, and
partake of the sacraments for which he pines. Hu-
man frailty makes him fear he cannot live without
his dear children. Ask that lady, who is in some sort
mistress of her destiny, having neither family nor con-,
nection, and being loaded with silver and gold ; ask
her why she doth not avail herself of her independence
'to render homage to her religion. Human frailty
makes her fear she cannot undergo the fatigue of a
voyage, or bear the air of a foreign climate, or share
the contempt generally cast on other refugees who do
carry along with them reputation, riches, and honours.
Ask that apostate, what obliges him to " receive the
mark of the image of the beast on his forehead," Rev.
xiii. 16. Human frailty makes him fear prisons,
dungeons, and gallies. Yet what saith vSt John of
this feci? fulness inseparable from human frailty ? He
saith, it excludes people from the inheritance of the
children of God. The life of a christian is a continual
warfare. Tearfulness is the most indefensible dispo-
sition in a soldier. Tearfulness in war is one of the
vices that nobody dares to avow ; wordly honour
either entirely eradicates it, or animates soldiers to sub-
due it. Want of courage is equally odious in religion.
A timid christian is no more fit to fight under the
standard of the lion of the tribe of Judah. Rev, v, 5.
than a wordling under that of an earthly hero. The
fearful shall hare their jxirt in the lake which hurneth
with fire and brimstone.

Alter this, my :;rethren, shall ^ve plead our frailty ?
Shall we draw arguments for lukewarmness from what
ought to invigorate us? Sliall we cherish our indifference
by such passages as these? " Tlie spirit indeed is willing,
but theflesh is weak," Matt. xxvi. 4^1. " Theflc*shlusteth
against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh," Gab
V. 1 7. " The Lord knoweth our frame, he rememberpth
that we arebutdust!" PsaLciii. 14. Shallwe attemptto

frustrate

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked 95i

frustrate all the kind intentions of the holy Spirit, who
makes us feel our frailty only for the sake of engaging
us to watch and fortify ourselves against it ? Believe
me, the sentence pronounced by St John will never be
revoked by such frivolous excuses; but it will be al-
ways true that the fearful shall have their 2ja?i in the
lake which burneth ivithjire and brimstone.

III. Let us attend to the third prejudice. Specula-
tive errors cannot be attended with any fatal consequences^
provided we live uprightly^ as it is called^ and discharge
our social duties. Nothing can be more specious than
this pretence. Of all tyrannies, that which is exer-
cised over the mind is the most opposite to natural
right. Fires and gibbets, racks and tortures, may in-
deed force ia man to disguise his ideas, but they can
never change them. The violence of torments may
indeed make hypocrites^ but it never yet made good
proselytes.

- We not only affirm that no human power can oblige
us to consider a proposition as true which we know to
be false, but we add, we ourselves have no such power
over our own minds. It doth not depend on us to
see, or not to see, a connection between two ideas ; to
assent to a truth, or not to assent to it. Evidence
forces, demonstration carries us away.

Moreover, although God justly requires us to em-
ploy all the portion of genius which he hath given
us, in searching after truth, yet his equity will not
allow that we should not regard as evident what the
genius which he liatH given us makes ap])ear evi-
dent ; and that we should not regard as false what the
genius which he hath given us makes appear false.
If it should happen, then, that a man, having exer-
cised all the attention, and all the rectitude of which
he is capable, in examining the most important ques-
tions of religion, cannot obtain evidence enough to
determine his judgment : if what appears evident to

pthers

96 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

others seem doubtful to him ; if what seems demonstra-
tive to them appear only probable to him, he cannot
be justly condemned for unbelief. Consequently,
what we have called a prejudice looks like the very
essence of reason and truth ; and this proposition,
Speculative errors cannot he attended with any fatal 0071-^
sequeiices, ought to be admitted as a first principle.

My brethren, were it necessary to give our opinion
of this article, we should boldly affirm, that the case
just now proposed is impossible. We are fully per-
suaded that it is not possible for a man who hath a
common share of sense, and who employs it all in ex-
amining whether there be a God in heaven, or whe-
ther the scripture be a divine revelation, to continue
in suspense on these important subjects. But our
conviction affords us no proof to others. There are
some truths which cannot be demonstrated ; and
equity requires us to allege in a dispute only what
is capable of demonstration. We confine oi^rselves
to that class of unbelievers whose infidelity of mind
proceeds from depravity of heart ; and we affirm, that
they are included in the sentence denounced by our
apostle, and deserve to suffier it in all its rigour. Nov(r
we have reason to form this judgment of an unbe-
liever, unless he observe all the following conditions,
which we have never seen associated in any one person
of this character.

1. He ought to have studied the great questions
of religion with all the application that the capacity
of his mind, and the number of his talents could ad-
mit. These questions belong to subjects the most in-
teresting. To examine them carelessly, to offer them
only, if I may venture to speak so, to the surface of
his mind, is a full proof of the depravity of his heart.

2. We require an unbeliever to enter upon the
discussion of these truths with a determination to sa-
crifice to them not only his strongest prejudices, but
also his most violent passions and his dearest interests,

If

The Doom ofih e Righteous and the Wicked. 9 /

If tliere be a God in heaven, if the christian religion
be divine, all the plans of our love and hatred, sorrow
and joy, ought to be regulated by these great truths.
Every man who is not conscious of having examined
them in such a disposition, and who hath obtained by
his examination only doubts and uncertainties, hath
reason to fear tiiat the emotions of his senses and the
suggestions of his passions have shackled, yea, im-
prisoned the faculties of his mind.

3. We require an unbeliever, who, notwithstanding
all tlrese conditions, pretends to be convinced that the
ideas of believers are imaginary, to shew at least some
mortification on account of this affected discovery.
Mankind have the highest reason to wish that the hopes
excited by religion may be well grounded ; that we
may be formed for eternity ; that we may enjoy
an endless felicity after death. If these be chimeras,
behold man stripped of his most glorious privileges !
A person educated with other christians in the noble
hope of immortality, and obtaining afterward proof
that this hope is founded only in the fancies of enthu-
siasts ; a man rejoicing at this discovery ; a man con-
gratulating himself on having lost a treasure so rich ;
a person unaffected with the vanishing of such in-
estimable advantages ;— such a man, I sayj discovers
an enormous depravity of heart.

4. We require an unbeliever to acknowledge, that
religion hath at least some probability. A man who
can maintain that the system of infidelity is demon-
strative, that this proposition. There is no God, is evi-^
dent ; that this other is incontestible. Religion hath not
one character of divinitij ; a man who can maintain
that a good philosopher ought not to retain in hi:^
Jnind the least doubt or uncertainty on these articles,
that for his own part he hath arrived at mathema^
tical demonstration; — such a man, if he be not the
most extravagant of mankind, is,- however, one of
the most corrupt.

VOL. IV. Or 0. In

•98 T'he Doom of the Rigliteons and the WicJced.

6. In fine, we require an unbeliever, on supposi"'
tion that his system were probable, that the plan of
religion were only probable, that had his a hundred
degrees of probability and our's only one degree, I
say, we require this unbeliever to act as if our system
was evidently true, and as if his was demonstratively
false. If our gystem of faith be true, all is hazarded
when the life is directed by a system of infidelity ;
whereas nothing is hazarded if the life be regulated
by religion, ieven supposing the system of religion
groundless. An unbeliever who is not ready to sacri-
fice his dearest passions even to a mere probability of
the truth of the doctrine of a future life, gives full
proof of the depravity of his heart.

Whether there be any one in the world, who, in
spite of these dispositions, can persuade himself that
religion hath n^ character of truth, we leave to the
judgment of God: but as for those who sin against
any of the itdes just now mentioned, (and how many
reasons have we to conclude that there are numbers
of this character !) they are included in the sentence of
our apostle, and they deserve to feel its utmost rigour.
*' The unbelieving shall have their part in the lake
which burneth with fire and brimstone."

IV. Let us advert to the fourth prejudrce. Meli^
gions are i/idiffefent. We will not go through the va-
rious sects of Christianity, and decide these litigiou&
questions, Which of ;these religions are compatible
with salvation? Which of these religions are destruc-
tive of it ? We will affirm only with our apostle, that
"Idolaters sliall have their part in the lake which
burneth with fire and brimstone." We intend particu-
larly to wipe oft' that imputation which the church of
Home constantly casts on our doctrine. Under pretence
that we have never been willing to denounce a sen-
tence of eternal damnation against members of the
most impure sects, they affirm, that, in our own opi-
nion,

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked, 99

hion, people may be saved in their community, and
this, they say, is one of the articles of our faith.

This is a sophism which you have often heard at-
tributed to a prince, who had united, as far as two
such different things could be united, the qualities of
a great king with those of a bad christian. Having a
long time hesitated between the peaceable possession of
an earthly crown, and the stedfast hope of a heavenly
crown, his historians tell us, he assembled some doctors
of the Roman communion and some of ours. He
asked the first, Whether it Avere possible to be saved
in Liie Protestant communion ? They answered, No.
He then asked the second^ Whether it were possible
to be saved in the Roman communion ? They re-
plied, They durst not decide the question. On this,
the prince reasoned in this manner. " The Roman
" catholic doctors assure me there is no salvation
" in the Protestant communion. The Protestants
" dare jiot affirm that tliere is no salvation in the
** communion of Rome. Prudence, therefore, requires
** me to abandon the Protestant religion, and to em-
" brace the Roman ; because, in the opinion of the
" Protestants, it is at the most only probable that I
" should perish in the church of Rome, whereas, in
** the opinion of the Roman catholics, it is demon-
" strative that I should be damned in the Protestant
" community." We will not attempt to investigate
this point of history, by examining whether these
Protestant ministers betrayed our religion by advan-
cing a proposition contrary to it, or whether these
historians betrayed the truth by altering the answer
attributed to our ministers. Whatever we think of
this historical fact, we affirm with St John, that
" Idolaters shall have their part in the lake which
burneth with tire and brimstone."

However, v, e ought to make a cautious distinction
concerning doctrines, as we do concerning precepts, a
distinction between questions of fact and questions of

2 7^ighf»

loo The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

right. There is a question of right in regard to pre-
cepts ; as for example — Is a course of life opposite to
the precepts of the gospel a damnable state ? To this
we reply, Undoubtedly it is. There is also a question
of fact, as for example — Shall all those who follow
such a course of life suffer all the rigour of damna-
tion ? A wise man ought to pause before he answers
this question ; because he doth not know whether a
man who hath spent one part of his life in a course of
vice, may not employ the remaining part in repent-
ance, and so pass into a state to which the privileges
of repentance are annexed. In like manner, there are
questions of fact and questions of right in regard to
doctrines. The question of right in regard to the
present doctrine is this : Can we be saved in an idola-
trous community ? Certamly we cannot. The ques-
'tion of fact is this : Will every member of an idola-
trous community be damned ? A wise man ought to
suspend his judgment on this question, because he
who had spent one part of his life in an idolatrous
community, may employ the remaining part in re-
penting, and consequently may share the privileges of
repentance. Except in this case, according to our
principles, " Idolaters shall have their part in the lake
which burneth with fire and brimstone." But, accord-
ing to our principles, the Roman catholic church is^
guilty of idolatry ; consequently, according to our
principles, the members of the church of Rome, if
they do not forsake that community, are among such
as " shall have their part in the lake which burnetii
with fire and brimstone."

If it be necessary to prove, that, according to o\ir
principles, the church of Rome is guilty of idolatry,
the evidence is easily obtained. Let us form a dis-
tinct idea of what, agreeably to scripture, we call
idolatry . To regard a simple creature as God su-
preme ; to render to a simple creature the worship
that is due only to the supreme God, is what we call

idoiatrv.

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. lOi

idolatry. Now, according to our principles, the mem*
bers of the church of Rome do render to r creature,
to a bit of bread, such vrorship as is due only to the
supreme God. By consequence, according to our
principles, the members of the church of Rome are
guilty of idolatry.

They defend themselves by a somewhat specious,
but groundless argument. It was employed by a
man* who disgraced his name by abandoning the
Protestant religion, though, thanks be to God, I hope,
I and my family shall always be enabled to continue
it in the list of sincere Protestants. His words are
these : " Two or three articles, saith he, excited
*' strong prejudices in my mind against the church
^* of Rome ; transubstantiation, the adoration of the
" holy sacrament, and the infallibility of the church.
^' Of these three articles, that of the adoration of
'' the holy sacrament led me to consider the church
*' of Rome as idolatrous, and separated me from its
" communion. A book which I one day opened
" without design, instantly removed this objection.
" There I found a distinction between error of place
" in worship, and error of object. The catholic wor-
** ships Jesus Christ in the eucharist, an object truly
" adorable. There is no error in this respect. If
" Jesus Christ be not really present in the eucharist,
*' the catholic worships him where he is not ; this
** is a mere error of 7j/acc, and no crime of idolatry."
A mere sophism ! By the same argument the Israel-
ites may be exculpated for rendering divine honours
to the golden calf. We must distinguish error of
place from error of object. The Israelite worsliips in
the golden calf the true God, an object truly ador-
able. " To-morrow is a feast to the Lord, the God, O
Israel, wiiich brought thee up out of the land of Egypt,"
Exod. xxxii. 5, 4. There is no error in this re-
spect ; if God be not really present in the golden calf

* Mr Sauriu of Paris-

102 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

the Israelite worships him where he i not, a mere er-
ror of place ^ and not the crime of idolatry. But St
-Stephen saith expressly that this calf was an idol.
" They made a calf, and offered sacrifice unto the
idol," Acts vii. 41. By consequence, error of place in
worship doth not exculpate men from idolatry As,
therefore, according* to our principles, there is an error
of place in the worship which Roman catholics render
to their host, so also, according to our principles, they
are guilty of idolatry.

But are we speaking only according to our own
principles ? Have we seen any thing in the wilderness
of Sinai which we do not daily see in the Roman com-
munion ? Behold, as in the deserts of Sinai, an innu
merable multitude, tired of rendering spiritual worship
to an invisible God, and demanding ^o^/^" to he made,
ivhich shall go before them ! Behold, as in the desert of
Sinai, a priest forming, with his own hands, a god to
receive supreme adoration ! See, as in the desert, a
little matter modified by a mortal man, and placed
upon the throne of the God of heaven and earth ! Ob-
serve, as in the desert, the Israelites liberally bestow-
ing their gold and their jewels, to deck and adorn,
if not to construct the idol ! Hark ! as in the desert of
Sinai, priests publish profane solemnities, and make
proclamation, saying. To-morrow is a feast to the
Lord ! Behold, as in the desert, the people rising early
on festivals to perform matins ! Hearken ! criminal
voices declare, as in Sinai, These are thrj gods, or this
is thy god, O Israel, who brought thee up out of the land
of Egypt. What am I saying ? I hear expressions
more shocking still. This is, O shame to Christianity !
O scandal in the eyes of all true christians ! This is^
yea, this bit of bread, on which a priest hath written,
Jesus Christ the saviour of mankind, this is thy God.
This is the God whom all the angels in heaven
adore. This is the God by whom all things were cre^
(Ue4- thai are in heaven, [and that are in earth, visible

an(jt

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. 103

<ind invisible, whether they he thrones, or dominions, or
principalities, or poiuers. This is the God who up-
holdeth all tilings by the word of his power. This is
the God, who in the fulness of time took mortal flesh.
This is the God who, for thy salvation, O Israel, was,
stretched on the cross. This is he, who m the garden
of Gethsemane said, " O my Father, if it be possible,
let this cup pass from me," Matt. xxvi. 39. who rose
conqueror over death and the grave, who passed into
the heavens, and at whose ascension the heavenly in-
telligences exclaimed, "Lift up your heads, O ye
gates, even lift them up, ye everlasting doors, that the
Lord of iiosts, the King of glory, may come in," Psal.
xxiy. 7, <^x. O Judah, Judah, thou hast justified thi/
sister Samaria, G ye deserts of Sinai, never did ye
see any thing equal to what our weeping eyesMiold I
Who is on the Lord's side ? Let him come hither. Ye
8ons of Levi, separated to the service of the Lord,
consecrate yourselves to-day to Jehovah .-^-^But \\ hat
are we about ? Are we interrupting the soft still
voice of the gospel, to utter the thundering commands
of mount Sinai ? Shall we command you to-day, as
oMoses did formerly the Levites, " put every man his
sword by his side, and go in and out, from gate to
gate, throughout the camp, and slay every man his
brother, and every man his companion, and ey^ry man

his neighboiu\ Ah, Rome ! Were we to adopt this

method, you could not r:eproach us ; you could only
complain that we were too ready to learn the lessons
you have taught us, and too eager to imitate your
bloody example ! Even in such a case we should have
one great advantage over you ; our hands would grasp
the murdering sword to destroy thee only for the
glory of God, whereas thine hath butchered us for
•the honour of an idol ! We are not come with fire,
and blackness, and darkness, and tempest ; but Zion,
though ail mangled by thy cruelty, utters only cool
ejvhortations, affectionate remonstrances, and tender

intreaties ;

104 The Doom ojihe Righteous and the Wicked,

intreaties ; she fights only with the ** sword of the
Spirit," and the " hammer of the word," Eph. vi. 17.
Jer. xxiii. 29. Ah poor people ! How long will you
Jive without perceiving the golden candlestick which
Jesus Christ hath lighted up in his church ! May God
take away that fatal bandage, which hides the truth
from thine eyes ! Or, if this favour be refused us,
may God enable us to take away from thee such- of
our children as thou hast barbarously torn from the
breasts of their mothers, in order to make them, like
thine own, the children of a harlot-

V. To proceed to the last prejudice. None hut the
vulgar ought to he afraid of coinmitting certain crimes.
Kings and statesmen will he judged hy a particular law.
The greatness of the motive that inclined them to manage
some affairs of state will j)l^ad their excuse, and secure
them from divine vengednce. What reason would sub-
jects have to complain, and, I will venture to add,
how insecure would princes and magistrates be, my
brethren, if these pretences were well grounded ; if
they, who hold our lives and fortunes in their hands,
were under no restraint in the abuse of sovereign
poAver ; and if, under our oppressions, we could not
inwardly appeal to a supreme governor, and say, at
least to ourselves, in private, " I saw under the sun the
place of judgment, that wickedness was there, and the
place 6f righteousne^, that iniquity was there. I said
in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the
wicked ; for there is a time there for every purpose and
for every work," Eccles. iii. 16, 17.

But if this be a claim of tyranny, it is not, however,
a privilege derived from religion. It is destroyed by
St John in the words of our text, " abominable, and
nuird^rers, and poisoners, and all liars, shall have their
part in the lake which burneth with fire and brim-
stone. We do not understand that the apostle speaks
here only of such eminent persons as govern mankind.
■ '. " ■ There

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. 105

There are liars, murderers, poisoners, and abominable
of all ranks and conditions : but it is only in the
courts of kings, it is on thrones, it is at the head of
armies, and in the persons of such as are usually called
heroes in the world, that crimes of this sort are en-
nobled : here altars are erected, and these detestable
actions elevated into exploits worthy of immortal glory ;
they are inserted in our histories, in order to be Irans-
initted to the latest posterity.

False protestations, by which a statesman, if I may
speak so, obtains leave to lodge in the bosom of au
ally, that he may be the better able to stab him to th^
heart ; indeterminate treaties, and frivolous distinc
tions betvv ed^ the letter and the spirit of a public in-
strument ; these, v> hich we call illustrious lies, these
are exploits worthy of immortal glory ! Bloody wars,
undertaken less for the good of the state than for the
glory of the governors ; cruel expeditions, tragical
battles, sieges fool-hardy and desperate in a theory of
the military art, but practicable in the eyes of ambi-
tion, or rather raving madness; rivers discoloured
\vith blood ; heaps of human bodies loading the earth ;
these which we call illustrious murders, these are ex-
ploits thought worthy of immortal glory ! Dark ma-
chinations, in which treason suplies the place of cou-
rage, assassination of the right of war, secret poison of
public battle ; these are actions truly ahominahle, yet
these are thought worthy of immortal glory, provided
they be crowned with success, anc! provided a historian
can be found to disguise and embellish them ! A his-
torian, who can celebrate and adorn such heinous
crimes, is, if possible, more ahominahle than his hero
who committed them.

Shall we go back to the periods of fable ? Shall we
take example from those nations v» hich lived without
hope, and without God in the vrorld ? Shall we narrate
ancient history ? Shall v/e publish the turpitude of mo--
dern times ? ye horrid crimes ! ye frightful actions! ye
' ' ' perfidious

106 The. Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked.

perfidious outrages ! more fit for the hearts of infernal
furies than for the bosoms of mankind, depart into eter-
nal silence, and never shew your ghastly features
again ! Never were propositions more unwarrantable
than these : the vulgar only ought to be afraid of cer-
tain crimes. Kings and statesmen will be judged by a
particular law. The greatness of the motive that in-
clined them to manage some affairs of state, will plead
their excuse, and secure them from divine vengeance.
Why were so many commands given to princes con-
cerning- administration of justice, breaches of peace,
and declarations of war ? To what purpose have so
many Pharaohs been drowned, Nebuchadnezzars re-
duced to the condition of beasts, Flerods devoured
by Avorms, and strokes of divine vengeance fallen
upon the proudest heads, except to teach us that no
creature is so august, no throne so magnificent, no
dominion so invincible, as to free a creature from the
necessity of obeying his Creator ? What means that
law which God formerly gave by the mouth of
Moses ? " When thou shalt set a king over thee, he
shall not multiply wives to himself, that his heart
turn not away," Deut. xvii. 14, &c. He shall not
amass for himself silver and gold. " And it shall be,
when he sitteth upon the throne of his kingdom, that
he shall write himself a copy of this law in a book, and
it shall be with him, and he shall read therein all the
days of his life, that he may learn to fear the Lord his
God, to keep all the words of this law, and these sta-
tutes, to do them ; that his heart be not lifted up
above his brethren, and that he turn not aside from
the commandment to the right hand or to the left."
What mean these thundering words ? *^ Thou profane
wicked prince of Israel ! thy day is come, thine iniquity
shall have an end. Thus saith the Lord God, Remove
the diadem, and take off the crown ; I will overturn it,
and it shall be no more," Ezek. xxi. 25 — 27. In one
-^vord; >vhat doth St John mean by the words of mv text?

All

The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked. 107

a

Allliai's and poisoners, murderers and abominable shall
have their part in the lake luhich burnefh withjire and
brimstone.

It would be difficult, my brethren, for men who ne*
ver saw any thing* greater than the courts of princes,
a sort of earthly g'ods, to imagine a more pompous and
venerable imag'e than that which St John exhibits here
to our view. He brings forth the terrible day in which
the supreme lawgiver will bring* earthly judges to ac-
count for that power with which he intrusted them,
and of which most of them have made a very criminal
use. There, all their flattering titles will be laid aside,
no more Emperors, Monarchs, Arbiters of peace or
war ; or rather, there will these titles be repeated to
mortify the pride, and to abate the insolence, of every
one who abused them. There, pale, trembling*, and
afraid will appear those tyrants, those scourges of Al-
mighty God, those disturbers of mankind, who once
made the earth tremble with a single cast of their eyes.
Then will be produced the vexations they have caused,
the unjust decrees they have pronounced, the families
they have impoverished, the houses, the cities, the
kingdoms which they have burnt to ashes. Then will
be judged the famous quarrels of Alexander and Da-
rius, Cyrus and Croesus, Pyrrhus and FabHcius, Han-
nibal and Scipio, Caesar and Pompey, ill decided, in
Cato's opinion, by the gods themselves in the battle
Pharsalia. And you, you who hold the reins of this
republic, you, in regard to whom we often say to this
people, " Let every soul be subject unto the higher
powers ; the powers that be are ordained of God ;
whosoever resisteth power, resisteth the ordinance of
God, and they that resist shall receive to themselves
damnation," Rom. xiii. 1,2. you, our governors and
lords, what appearances will you make in that great
day, and what sentence will you then receive ? Ah !
if it be possible for you to be so intoxicated with your
own grandeur as to forget the majesty of that God,

wh(?

i08 The Doom of the Righteous and the Wicked,

who placed you at the head of this people, and so ne-
glect the duties of your station ; if it be possible for
the cries of the oppressed to sound in vain in your ears,
and bribes to blind your eyes ; if it be possible for you
to bestow the rewards due to fidelity and courage upon
solicitation and intrigue, to sacrifice the public interest
to private views ; if a personal pique dissolve a union
essential to the good of the state ; if love of pleasure
consume time devoted to the administration of justice;
if the tears of Sion in distress be not tenderly wiped
away ; if religion and good manners be decrifd, and
trampled on with impunity ; if Lord's days and public
solemnities be openly profaned ; if, in a word, Chris-
tianity be sacrificed to worldly policy, what will your
condition be !

God grant this people may always be as happy in
the character of their governors as in the gentle con-
stitution of their government ! May a visible and
bountiful benediction rest upon those, who, " in the
midst of a crooked and perverse nation, shine as lights
in the Avorld !" Phil. ii. 15. Never, never may any be
at the head of the state who are unworthy of being
members of the church ! God grant we may behold
you who are intrusted with the public welfare, models
worthy of cur imitation : and by imitating your con-
duct in this life may we follow you into the world of
glory ! Amen. To God be honour and glory for ever.
Amen.

SEK3I0N

SERMON v.*

God's Co?ifroversy with Israel.

MiCAH vi. 1, 2, 3.

Hear ye noiu ivhat the Lord saiih. Arise, contend he*
fore the mountains i and Jet the hills hear thy voice. Hear
ye, O mountains, the Lord's controversy, and ye strong
foundations of the earth : for the Lord hath a contro-
versy with his people, and he will plead with Israel.
Omy people, what have I done unto thee f and wherein
have I wearied thee f testify against me,

npHE wickedness of Sodom was so abominable, when
God was about to consume it by fire, that we can'
never remark without astonishment his condescension
to Abraham, when he gave him leave to plead for
that detestable city. Abraham himself was amazed
at it. He was afraid of inflaming that anger which
he endeavoured to abate. " Oh !" said he, " let not
the Lord be angry, and I will speak. Beliold now, I,
wiio am but dust and ashes, have taken upon me to speak
unto the Lord," Gen. xviii. SO, 27. Yet God heard him,
and answered him, and agreed to spare Sodom, and to
pardon an innumerable multitude of guilty persons, on
condition a small number of righteous people could be

found

This Sermon was preached on a fast- day, at the openrng of i>i
c-ampaign in the year 1 706,

llO God^s Controversy with Israel.

found amoiig" them. Abraham asked, " Peradveiiture
there be fifty righteous within the city, wilt thou not
spare the place, for the fifty righteous that are therein?"
God replied, " If I find in Sodom fifty righteous, I will
spare all the place for their sakes." Abraham conti-
nued: " Peradventure there shall lack five of the fifty?
Peradventure there shall be forty, peradventure thirty,
peradventure twenty, peradventure ten," Cen. xviii.24,
26, 28, 29, <SvC. God heard Abraham, and suffered
him to proceed to the utmost of his compassion, wait-
ing, if I may speak so, till his servant gave the signal
for the destruction of Sodom. So true is it, that his
essence is love, and that mercy and grace are the
strongest emanations of his glory ! Exod. xxxiv. 6.

But, my brethren, if we admire the goodness of
God, when he suffers only one worm of the earth to
reason against his judgments, and to plead the cause
of those criminals whose ruin was determined, what
emotions, pray, ought the objects set before us in the
text to produce in our minds to day ? Behold ! in the
words of my text, behold ! God not only permitting
the sinner to plead his cause before him, and suspend-
ing his sovereign rights, but behold him offering him-
self to plead before the sinner, behold him descending
from his tribunal, accounting for his conduct, and sub-
mitting himself not only to the judgment of one of his
creatures,, but proposing to do so to us all. " Hear ye
what the Lord saith. Arise, contend thou before the
mountains, and let the hills hear thy voice. Hear ye,
O mountains, the Lord's controversy, and ye strong
foundations of the earth ; for the Lord hath a contro-
versy with his people, and he will plead with Israel.
O my people, what have I done unto thee ? and where-
in have I wearied thee ? testify against me.
, This is the unheard of action which we are going
to exhibit to you, in order to excite in you such senti-
ments of contrition and repentance as the solemnity of
the day requires of you, especially now that the arm

of

^ God's Controver SI/ with Israel. Hi

of the Lord is lifted up and stretched out over voih'
heads, shall I say to destroy or to defend you ?

At such a time can it be necessary to prepare your
minds, and solicit your attention ? If I have yet any
more wishes to form for your felicity, I conjure you by
the walls of this church, now indeed standing, but
doomed to be rased by the enemy ; by the interests of
your wives and children, wiiose death is determined ;
by your regard for your civil and religious liberties;
in the name of your magistrates, generals, -and soldiers,
whose prudence and courage cannot succeed without
the blessing of the Almighty ; I conjure you to address
yourselves to this exercise v/ith attentive minds and
accessible hearts. May all worldly distractions, may
all secular anxieties, troublesome birds of prey, always
alighting on our sacrifices, O may you all be driven
away to-day ! God grant we may be left alone withhim!
O Lord, help us to repair the breaches made in our
Jerusalem, to prevent others yet threatened, to en-
gage thee, the God of armies, on our side, and to draw
down by our prayers and tears thy benedictions on the
state and the church ! Amen.

Before we enter into the spirit of our text, let us take
a cursory view of the terms ; each deserves our atten-
tion. " Hear ye what the Lord saith. Hills, moun-
tains, ye strong foundations of the earth, hear ye vv hat
the Lord saith." What loftiness in these terms ! This
is to prepare the mind for great things. It is a bad
maxim of orators to promise much to auditors. The
imagination of the hearer often out-flies that of the
speaker. Artful rhetoricians choose to surprise and
amaze their hearers by ideas new and unexpect^ed, sa
that the subjects of their orations may appear sublime
by being strange.

But hath the holy Spirit need of our rules of rheto-
ric, and is the everlasting gospel subject to our ora-
torical laws ? There is no proportion between the
human soul', to which the prophet addresseth himself,

and

lit God's Coniroversj/ with IsraeL n

and the Spirit of that God who animates the pr(5phet.
How great soever your expectation may be, your ex-
pectation will be always exceeded. Great objects will
not be wanting to exercise your capacities, your ca-
pacities indeed may want ability to investigate them-
" The thoughts of God w ill always be higher than
your thoughts, as the heavens will always be higher
than the earth," Isa. Iv. 8. A prophet frequently seems
at first to present only one object to view ; but on a
nearer examination his one object includes many : he
seems at first only to speak of a temporal deliverer*
but he speaks of the Messiah ; at first the present life
seems only intended, but at length we find eternity is
contained in his subject. Our prophet had reason,
therefore, to exclaim, " Mountains, hills, ye strong
foundations of the earth, hear ye."

" Hear ye what the Lord saith," adds the prophet. It
is the Lord, who speaks by the mouths of his servants;
to them he commits his treasure, the ministry of re-
conciliation. These treasures, indeed, are in earthen
vessels : but they are treasures of salvation, and what-
ever regards salvation interests you. Ministers are
frail and feeble ; but they are ministers of the Lord,
and whoever comes from him ought to be respected
by yoti. When we censure a sinner, when we make
our places of worship xe?>o\\\\div;\i\\ Anathemas^ Mar ana-
thas, instantly Ave excite murmuring and complaints.
My brethren, if at any time we stretch these hands to
seize the helm of the state, if we pretend to counteract
your sound civil polity, if under pretence of pious pur^
poses we endeavour officiously to intermeddle with
your domestic affairSj mark us for suspicious and
dangerous persons, and drive us back to our schools
and studies ; but when we are in this pulpit, when we
preach nothing to you but what proceeds from the
riiouth of God himself, and no other laws than those
which come from his throne, be not surprised when
we say to you, Hear us with respect, hear us with

attention.

God's Controversy with Israel lis

attention. " We ^re ambassadors for Christ. The
Lord hath spoken." This is our commission, tliese
are our credentials.

" Arise, contend thou before the mountains, andlet the
Jiills heai* thy voice. Hear ye hills, hear ye mountains^
hear ye strong foundations of the earth, hear ye what
*the Lord saith." When God speaks, all ought to at-
tend to what he says. He causes the most insensible
creatures to hear his voice. " The voice of the Lord is
powerful, the voice of the Lord is full of majesty, the
voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars of Lebanon, it
maketh Sirion to skip like a young unicorn, it divideth
the flames of fire, it shaketh the wilderness, it maketh
the forests bare," Psal. xxix. 3, &;c. The whole universe
knows this voice, the whole universe submits to it.
The voice of God does more than I have mentioned.
It reigns in empty space ; " It calleth those things
which be not as though they were. By it the heavens,
and all their host, were made. God spake, and it was
done ; he commanded, and it stood fast," Rom. iv. 17.

There is but one being in nature deaf to the voice
of God, that being is the sinner. He, more insensible
than the earth, and harder than the rocks, he refusetli
to lend an ear. The prophet is forced to address him-
self to inanimate creatures, to hills and mountains, and
strong foundations of the earth. " Hear ye hills, hear
ye mountains, ye strong foundations of the earth," and
put my people to the blush. '^ The ox knoweth his
owner, and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel doth
not know, my people doth not consider," Isa. i. S.
** Israel hath forgotten the God that formed him, and is
unmindful of the rock that begat him," Deut. xxxii. 18,

Alas ! how exactly does Israel now resemble Israel
in the days of Micah ! When we speak for God, we
generally observe absent minds^ wandering eyes, and in-
sensible hearts. In vain we say^ ^* The L6r<l hath spoken,
hearwhattheLordsaith." It does not signify, the ansAver
given us is, " Who is Ihe Lord, that I should obey his

VOL. IV. II voice?"

I14f God's Conirovcrsij with Israel

voice?" Each wants a gospel of his own. Eachseize:^
the sacerdotal censor. A rigid morality is not suited
to the taste of our auditors. Everj sinner says of the
preacher of it, as ah Impious king once said of Mi-
caiah, " I hate him, for he doth not prophecy good con-
cerning ine, but evil," 1 Kings xxii. 8. Henceforth,
then, we must address ourselves to these arches, arid
pillars, and walls, our auditory is insensible.

*^' The Lord hath a ciDutroversy with his people.*'
What a controversy, my brethren ! Nfever was such a
cause heard bt fore dny judges. Never was a court con-
cerned in ah affair of such importance. The contro-
verting parties, the manner of pleading, and the matter
Ih dispute, are ^11 worthy of attention.

The parties, who al'e they? On the one part the
Lord of universal nature, he *' before whom all nations
are as a drop of a bucket ; he that sitteth upon the
circle of the earth, and considereth tli^ inhabitants there-
of as grasshoppers ; he that weighed the mountains in
scales, and the hills in a balance," Isa. xl. 15,22, 12.
On the other part, man, Israel, the church. So that it
is a husband pleading against his wife, a parent against
liis children, the Creator against his creature. Who
ever heard of a controversy between parties more wor-
thy of consideration !

The inanner of pleading this cause is yet more re-
markable, *'TheLordhathacontroversywithhispeople.r
Who can coolly hear this language ? At the sound of
these words conscience takes fright, the sinher flees to
the clefts of the rocks, and calls to the mountains to
fall on him, and cover him from the Wrath of Jehovah,
Each exclaims with a prophet, " Who among us can
dwell with devouring fire ? Who among us can dwell
with everlasting burnings ?" Isa. x!fixiii. 14. Each cries
with the aricient Israelites. " Let hot God speak
with us, lest we die, Exod. xx. 19. and with Job, " How
should man be just with God?" chap. ix. 2. But, peace
be to your consciences ! God doth not com.e to yoii to-

God's Controv^rsif with Israel, 1 1^

<lay with the dreadful ensigns of his vengeance. If
he intends to cast the sinner, it is not by angry re-
proaches, bnt by reproofs of his love. Hear him. *• p
lily people, what have I done unto thee ? wherein have
I wearied thee ? testify against me.'* He knows yOu
have nothing to allege, but he means to affect you by
generous motives; he means to excite in you that re-
pentance which is not to be repented of, that godly
sorrow, that broken and contrite heart which is of
inestimable value in his sight.

As for you who have need of thunder and lightning,
all you wjio must have hell opened under your feet,
all you whose souls arig in sensible to motives of justice
and equity, depart from this assembly. We are not
preaching to you to-day. We speak to the people of
God. " The Lord hath a controversy with his people.
The Lord will plead with Israel/' We address such
of you as have hearts to feel these tender expressions,
expressions so tender that nothing in uninspired poets
aiid orators can equal them ; *• O my people, wiiat have
I done unto thee ? and wherein have I Avearied thee ?
testify against me."

In fine, the matter of this controversy is remarkable ;
it is the whole conduct of man to God, and the whole
conduct of God to man. God is willing to exercise
Ids patience to hear the complaints of his people, but
he requires in return^ that his people should hear his
against them.

This is a general view of our text ; but ar;e general
observations sufficient on a subject that merits the
most profound meditation ? W-e must go into the
matter ; we m\'.st go even to the bottom of this contro-
versy ; we must hear both parties, how disproportional
soever they may be, and how improper soever it may
seem to confront them ; vre must examine whether the
faidt lie in God or man. Forgive, O God! if worms of the
earth presume to agitate the rash question, and to
plead thus in thy presence ! Thy condescension will

2 only

116 God's Controversy with Israel.

pnly display thy glory. " Thou wilt be justified when
thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest," Psal.
Ji. 4.

Let us first hear what coniplaints man hath to bring
against God, and what God hath to answer. Then let
us see what complaints God hath to bring against man,
iand what man can allege in his own defence. But,
as we have already hinted, you wilj not be surprised,
my brethren, if we sometimes forget the prophet and
the Jews, to whom he spoke, and consider the te^^t
as it regards christians in general, and this congre-
gation in particular.

That a creature should complain of his Creatqr
should seem a paradox. Of Jiini every creature holds
his life, motion, and being. The air he breathes, the
animation of his frame, the sun that gives him light,
the earth thait bears him up, are all emanations of the
goodness of his Creator. Yet, strange as it may ap-
pear, it is certain, man complains of God. To set th^
Deity at nought, to trample his laws underfoot, to blas-
pheme his holy name, to harden under the tenderest
marks of his love, as we do every day, is not this to
murmur ? Is not this to complain ?

Let us hear these complaints. You have your wish,
my brethren, and are all of you to-day in the condition
in which Job desired to be, when, in excess of grief, he
uttered these emphatical words, " Othat I knew where
J might find God ! I would go even to his seat. I
would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth
with arguments. I would know the words wjiich he
would answer me, and understand what he would say
unto me,'* chap. xiii. 3, 5- Order this cause, mor-
tals, prepare these arguments, God is ready to hear
you. When we enter into our own hearts, we find
we are apt to complain of God on three accounts :
his law seems too severe ; his temporal favours too
omall ; and his judgments too rigorous. Let us fol
low m^n in these three articles

Gods Controversy with Israel. i I7

The laws of God seem too severe. " My people^
what have I done unto thee ?" To this, concupiscence
answers, I choose to domineer in the world ; but God
would have me be humble, wash the feet of his disciples,
" esteem others better than myself," Phil. ii. 3. and
place myself, so to speak, in the meanest post in the
world. I like to amass riches ; but God requires my
" conversation tobe without covetousness," Heb. xiii. 5.
and he would have me learn of lillies arid sparrows to
confide in his providence. I love to live well, and to
fare sumptuously every day ; but God requires me to
be sober, to *' keep under my body, ahd bring it into
subjection," 1 Cor. ix. 27. and instead of living to
myself, to take from voluptuousness^ and expend
what I save in charity to others. I love to divulge
the vices of a neighbour^ and to erect niy reputation
on the ruin of his ; but God threatens to exclude slan-
derers from his kingdom. In a word, the law of God
controls every passion of my heart. Ah ! why did
God give me laws so opposite to my inclinations, or
ivhy did he give m^e inclinations , so opposite to his
laws ?

I understand you, sinners^ you wish God had formed
religion, not on the eternal rules of'*' righteousness and
judgment, which are the base of his throne," Psal.
xcvii. 2. but on the suggestions of such passions as
animate you. Religion, intended by its wisdom to
free the world from the vices that disfigure it, should
have revealed, in your opinion, more ample methods
of committing these very vices, and provided for the
the hardening of such consciences as the justice of God
means to terrify. You wish that the sovereign Godj
by a condescension incompatible with the purity of his
perfections, had imbibed, as it were, the wicked view3
and inclinations of sinful man, sinful man being so basef
and so wicked as to refuse to conform to the holiness
of the supreme God.

But hast thou, man., sufficiently reflected on this

article?

1 ] 8 Ood's Confroversj/ tuiili tsrael.

article ? Thou complainest of the laws of God. WJiu
art thou ? Whence dost thou come ? Who i>ave thee
thy being ? Is n^t God thy governor ? This firmament
before thine eyes, that infinite spiK^e in which thine
imagination is absorbed, those heavenly bodies revolv-
ing over thy head, the earth beneath thy feety is not
tliis the empire of God ? And you, vile creature, con-
fined in a corner of the universe, you house of clay,
you worm of the earth, you nothing, ligliter than va-
nity itself, you, who are only a vain phantom, walking
in a vain shew, do you murmur at the laws of God ?
would you be Lord of religion ? would you either
say to God, Command this, forbid that, or would you
mount his throne^ and give the universe law ? What
presumption !

You complain of the laws of God. Are not these
Jaws just in themselves ? God requires you to love him^
Js it possible to refuse obedience to this just command,
considering the eminent perfections, the majesty, and
benevolence of him v/ho requires your esteem ? God
requires you to love your neighbour. And would
*it be right that you, made of the &>ame dust as your
neighbour, and doomed both to return to dust again ;
V. ould it be right for you, under pretence of some ex^
terior advantages in your own condition, to cherish a
self complacence that would debase the dignity of
human liature, and teach mankind to estimate their
worth by external appendages? Would it be fair
in civil society that each should contribute to yoiu'
happiness, tliat tile artist should assist you by his in*
Uustry, the scholar by his learnings the statesman by
his wisdom, the soldier by his courage, and that
you, a simple spectator of all these things, should
think of nothing but enjoying yourself at the expence
of all mankind ? A\^ould this be right ? Are your
complaints well grounded ? ** My people, what have I
done Unto thee ? wherein have 1 wearied thee ? testi-
fy against me*.'*^

God's Controversy with Israel. V\ 9

You complain of the laws of God. But what is the
design of all these laws ? Is it not to make you as
happy as possible ? Judge again yourself. Imagine
yourself violating all the divine Jaws^ having no vene-
ration for God, no love for your neighbours, being
haughty, overbearing, a liar, and a sLmderer. Ima-
gine yourself, on the other hand, humble, pious, zeal-
ous, patient, charitable. Is it not clear, that, in spite
of the violence of your passions, you would like your-
self best in the condition last mentioned ? If your
passions h^ve so blinded your mind as to incapacitate
you for entering into these reflections, ima.fine two
men, the one animated with the vice.s, and the other
with the virtues just spoken of, and if you can prefer
the vicious man before the virtuous, I agree you shall
complain of the laws of God.

You complain of the divine laws. But are not
these laws infinitely proper to make you happy in thisf
%vorld? In wdiat state would the human heart be,
what bloody scenes would it revolve, were God to
give it up to the infernal passion of envy, to excessive
sensuality, to the miserable anxieties of avarice, or to
the tumultuous rage of ambition ? Imagine a society
where robl)ery, assassination, and adultery were aj-
lo\yed ; a society in which self-interest was the only
motive, passion the only law, and no bounds set to sin
but such as ambition chose ; where the magistrate was
oppressing the people, the people revolting against
the magistrate ; where friend was betraying friend, and
the receiver stabbing his benefactor; would you consent
to live in such a society ? Imagine an opposite plan,
stretch your fancy as far as possible, and the further
you go the more fully Avill you perceive, that nothing-
can be so well contrived to [)roduce present him-caii
felicity as the divine law ; and that, even suppo^ ng
some particular cases, in which obedience is atte. --.ed
wath loss, affliction, ar.d ,ain, yet in all cases thtie is
an ample indem^nity both in a hope of future happiness,

and

no God's Coniroversi/ ivith Israel

and in an enjoyment of present pleasure arising from
a consciousness of real rectitude and upright self-
approbation.

You complain of the laws of God. But doth not
God exemplify all these laws himself? He commands
you to be just. Is not he himself just? Righteousness
and judgment, justice and equity, are the bases of his
throne. He requires you to be humble. But al-
though this virtue may seem repugnant to the divine
nature, yet we have beheld the prodigy of God humb-
ling himself, of one, who " thought it not robbery to
be equalwithGod,makinghimself of no reputation, and
taking upon himself the form of a servant!" Phil. ii. 6, 7.
God requires us to be benevolent. Is not he love ?
Are we not all overwhelmed with his favours ? Hath
he not given us his Son ? O admirable beauty of reli-
gion ! My brethren, it transforms a creature into the
image of his Creator ! O matchless condescension of
the God we adore ! He unites true happiness to an
imitation of his attributes, and invites us to participate
his happiness by partaking of his holiness.

You complain of the laws of God. But what does
God require of you but to endeavour to please him ?
Doth he not promise to accept your sincere obedience,
though it be accompanied with many frailties and
great imperfections ? Hath he not engaged to assist
you by the essential aid of the holy Spirit ? Brethren,
enter into your own hearts, listen to the suggestions,
the joys, the hopes excited in your consciences. This
is the hand of the Lord drawing you ; this is the light
of heaven shining in your hearts; this is the holy Spirit
converting the souly Psal. xix. 7. Should God descend
and stand among you, amidst thunders and fires like
those of Mount Sinai ; should he stand among you
surrounded with blackness, and darkness, and tempest ;
should he, from the centre of all these formidable en-
signs of dreadful majesty, declare. Cursed is every oius
that continueth not in all things written in the book of the

lav*

God's Controversy with Israel. l£'l

law to do them, Gal. iii. 10. human frailty might serve
for an excuse ; but he speaks, as we said before, to
his people, to them he presents himself with all the
attractives of grace. *

Ah ! were you to deplore your depravity ! Were
you to say in the bitterness of your soul, " O wretched
man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of
this death ?" Rom. vii. 24. God himself would comfort
you, he would tell you, that " he would not break a
bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax," Matt. xii.
20. If, sinking under a sense of sin, you were to cast
yourself at his feet, and implore his assistance, he would
give you his holy Spirit, who, conveying light and
strength through all your heart, would eradicate all
your sins. But you love sin, you thrust back the
mighty hand stretched out to help you, you " grieve
the holy Spirit of God, turn the grace of God into
lasciviousness," Eph. iv. 30. Jude 4. and then complain
that the laws of God are too severe. You consider
God the lawgiver as a mortal enemy, who attacks all
your pleasures. Ah ! how unjust are your complaints !
" O my p^eople, what have I done unto thee ? Are my
commandments grievous, is not my yoke easy, my
burden light ? Am I not mild and lowly in heart ? O
my people, what have I done unto thee ? and wherein
have I wearied thee ? testify against me."

The second class of human complaints against God
regard him as the governor of the world. Man com-
plains of providence, the economy of it is too narrow
and confined, the temporal benefits bestowed are too
few and partial.

Let us do justice to human nature, my brethren,
If we cannot justify this complaint, let us acknow-
ledge there is an appearance of equity in it. This
complaint, we allow, hath some colour. God pre-
sents himself to u^ in religion under the tenderest re-
lations, as a friend, a brother, a parent, a husband ;
the earth belongs to this friend, and the fulness thereof
i^ at the disposal of this God, and a single act of his

will

122 God's Controversij with Israel

will would instantly fill our houses with pleasures,
riches, and honours ; yet he leaves us in misery and indi-^
gence, and it would be in vain to search the New-Testa-
ment for a single passas^e to ground a hope that we should
hecome rich, reputable, and honourable in the world
by sincerely practising the precepts of Christianity.

If this complaint at first sight seem unanswerable in
the mouth of a christian, it is precisely from the mouth
of a christian that it cannot come without extreme
ignorance and ingratitude. If you be christians yOu
must be so affected with the numberless benefits be-
stowed on you, that it is inconceivable how an idea of
such temporal blessings as you think necessary to com-
plete your happiness, can make such an impression on
your mind, or find a place in your heart. Being chris*
tians, you are persuaded that God hath " blessed you
with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.
That he hath chosen you in him before the foundation
of the world, that he predestinated you unto the adop-
tion of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according
to the good pleasure of his will," Eph. i. 3, &:c. Being
christians, you believe, that " God so loved you, that
he gave his only begotten Son, that you believing in
him should not perish, but have everlasting life," John
iii. 16. As you are christians, you are persuaded, that
for your sakes the Lord hatli ** shaken the heavens, the
earth, the sea, and the dry land," and *' hath sealed
you, and given you the earnest of the Spirit in your
hearts," Hag. ii. 6. 2 Cor. i. 22. Being christians, you
are convinced that the public ministration of the divine
word, the ordinances of religion so often administered
to you, are evidences of the watchful care of that pro-
vidence over you, which gives ** some apostles, some
pastors and teachers, for the perfecting of the saints^
and for the work of the ministry," Eph. iv. 11,12. You
believe, for you are christians, that^ when you die,
heaven will be opened to you, as it was* formerly to
Stephen ; that angels will uphold you in your agony,
as t*^ey once pomforte^l your lledeemer; and that,

^ how

God's Controversif with Israel. .123

how difficult soever the race may be, you shall surmount
all, and finish with a song* of extatic triumph. Being
christians, you believe there are in your Father's house
many inansions, that Jesus Clu'ist is gone to pj^epare a
place for you, and that, throughout all eternity, your
happiness shall suffer no diminution. Yea, being
christians, you are already qvickened with Christ, and
even now sit with him in heavenly places, Ephes. ii,
5, 6.

Is it imaginable, that people enjoying so many ad-
vantages, favoured with so many benefits, and elevated
with such glorious hopes, should complain for want of
a few temporal gratifications, or spend a thought on
such momentary accommodations as fire the unruly
passions of v> orldlings ?

This is not all. If tlie morality of Jesus Christ be
thoroughly examined, it will be found almost incom-
patible with worldly pros])erity. Such is the state of
the human heart, that either Jesus Christ must alter
his religious laws, in order to put us into the possession
cf temporal prosperity, or he must deprive us of tem-
poral prosperity in order to establish his morality in
cur hearts. You wish, you say, that he had promised
pleasures to moderation, riches to charity, and worldly
grandeur to humility. Instead of gratifying yourwishes,
he sees it necessary to the being of your moderation
to remove from you the dangerous snares of pleasures ;
lie doth not make the charitable man rich, lest riches
shoidd excite avarice ; and lie does not bestow worldly
grandeur on the humble, lest it should diminish his
humility. This is a well known truth of universal
exj)erience. It is generally seen, that every temporal
good conveys a mortal poison into the heart of its
possessor* The temptations attending prosperity are
infinitely more difficult to overcome than those which
]x.4ong to adversity. He who hath triumphed over
persecutors, executioners, and tyrants, hath not un^
frequently fallen a prey to pride, luxury, and intem-
perance.

124^ God's Controversy with Israel.

perance, when objects proper to kindle these passions
have presented themselves to him.

Temporal prosperity is not only opposite to our
duty ; but it is for this xery reason hostile to our hap-
piness. Had God given us a life full of charms, we
should have taken little thought about another. It is
natural to be delighted with an agreeable situation,
and whatever attaches us to the world, cools our ardour
for heaven ; the inward man is renewed, as the outward
man perisheth, and faith commonly grows as fortune
decays. When the dove first flew out of the ark,
finding nothing but wind and rain, and rolling waves,
she returned to the ark for shelter and rest ; but when,
in her second flight, she saw plains and fields, there
she alighted and staid. Behold, my soul, thine own
image. When the world exhibits to thy view pros-
perity, riches, and honours, thou art captivated with
the beauty of the enchantress, and fallest a prey to her
charms. But when the world puts on the gloom of'
poverty, anxiety, and misery, thou turnest thine eyes
toward heaven, and seekest happiness in its natural
source. Even as things are now, in spite of all the
distresses that belong to life, we find it difficult to
detach our affections from the world : but what would
be the case, if all prospered according to our wishes ?
Speak to a man who talks of dying, exhaust philo^
sophical and religious arguments to determine him
to die contented ; place him between two objectsy
heaven and earth, the world he is leaving, and the
eternal state to which he is going : describe to him
on the one hand the vanity and uncertainty of worldly
enjoyments, tell him of the anxieties, the indigence^
poverty, and nullity of every thing here; then open hea-
ven to him, shew him happy angels for his companions,
<' the Lamb in the midst of the throne to feed him,and lead
him into living fountains of eternal joy," Rev. vii. 17.
Amidst so many just reasons for his detachment
from the world, this world is yet dear to him ; thi^

life,

God's Controversy with Israel. 125

life, this short life, this indigent life, this life which is
nothing but vanity and deception, this life appears
more desirable than heaven, and all its eternal glory.
If, then, in spite of so many disagreeables in this life,
it be so hard to quit it with content, what would be
pur condition were God to give us a firmer health, a
longer life, and a more flourishing state of affairs ?
What would be our condition, were there no mortifi-
cations in high rank, no uncertainty in friendships, no
vicissitudes in fortune ?

Our third complaint against God regards the rigour
of his judgments. The Jews of Micah's time had ex-
perienced this in many cases, and the prophet threaten-
ed more. ** Behold ! the Lord cometh out of his place,
and will tread upon the high places of the earth. The
mountains shall be molten under him, and the vallies
shall be cleft before him. Therefore I will wail and howl,
I will go stript and naked, 1 will make a wailing like tlie
dragons, and make a mourning as the owls, for her wound
is incurable. Jerusalem shall become heaps. Zion shall
be plowed as a field," chap. i. 3, 4, 8, 9, and iii, 12.

We have been treating of our text as it regards you,
my brethren, we will therefore leave the prophet and
his countrymen, in order to give you full liberty to
exhibit your complaints, and to say now, in the pre-
sence of heaven and earth, what ills God hath inflicted
on you. " O my people what have I done unto thee ?"
Ah, Lord ! how maiiy things hast thou done to us !
Draw near, ye mourning ways of Zion, ye desolate
gates of Jerusalem, ye sighing priests, ye afflicted vir-
gins, ye deserts peopled with captives, ye disciples of
Jesus Christ, w andering over the face of the whole
earth, children torn from your parents, prisons filled
with confessors, gallies freighted with martyrs, blood
of our countrymen shed like water, carcases once the
venerable habitation of witnesses for religion, now
thrown out to savage beasts and birds of prey, ruins
pi our churches, dust, ashes, sad remains of houses

dedicated

rs^ God's Conlroversij with Israel.

dedicated to our God, fires, racks, gibbets, punish-
ments till now unknoAvn, draw nigh hither^ and give
evidence against the Lord.

My brethren, if we consider God as a Judge, what
^ number of reasons may be assigned to prove the
equity of all the evils that he hath brought upon us ?
The abuse of his favours, the contempt of his word,
the slighting of all the warnings given us by his mini-
sters, the pride and worldly-jnindedness, the luke-
warniness and indifference, and many other odious
vices, which preceded our miseries, are evidences too
convincing that we deserved all ; and they ought to
make our complaints give place to the sorrowful, but
sincere confession, which a prophet puts in the mouth
of the church, " The Lord is righteous, for I have re-
belled against him," Lam. i. 18.

But as we said that in this text God is to be con-
sidered as a father, we affirm all these chastisemfelits,
even the most rigorous of them, are perfectly consist-
ent with this character. It was his love that engaged
him to employ such severe means for your benefit.
You know, my brethren, and you know but too well,
that the ease with which the enjoyment of the pre-
sence of God is obtained, too often lessens the favour
in our eyes. I appeal to experience. Recollect the
time so dear to you, when the gospel was preached to
you in your own country, and when God, with a
bouhty truly astonishing, granted you both spiritual
and temporal prosperity. Did you, I appeal to your
consciences, did you value these blessings according to
their real worth ? Were you never disgusted with the
manna that fell every morning around your habita-
tions ? Did you never say, with the Israelites, " There
is nothing at all, besides this manna, before our eyes ?"
Num. xi. 6. It was necessary, in order to re-animate
your zeal for God, to take his candlestick away ; it was
necessary for you to learn the importance of salvation,
by the difficulty of obtaining it ; and to kindle your
' ■ love

God'^ Cbntrover.{>/ with Israel. 157

love to your spiritual Imsbarxd hf his abseuce. These
eVerits excited abundance of piety among you ; and,
though the misfortunes of the times have produced
too many examples of human frailty, yet to these un-
liappy times we owe the bright examples of man^
eminent persons, whose names will go down with ho-
nour to the latest posterity.

Let us then acknowledge, my brethren, that, iil-
though we have insulted the rectitude of God, we are
willing now to do homage to it ; let us confess, God
hath given his people no just ground of complaint ; in
all his conduct he hath displayed the power of a God,
the fidelity of a husband, the ten(^erness of a parent ;
and we have nothing to reply to him, when he asks,
" O my people what have I done unto thee ? wherein
have I wearied thee ? testify against me."

As God hath answered the complaints of his people,
let us proceed to inquire how his people will answer
the complaints of their God. Let us see what we
ourselves call reply. He hath heard us, can we re-
fuse to hear him ? Let us proceed in this astonishing
cause between God and his church. " The Lord hath
a controversy with his people, the Lord will plead
with Israel."

The history of the Jews is so well known, that
every oiie of us is acquainted with their irregularities.
They corrupted both natural and revealed religion.
They had " as many gods as cities," Jer. ii. 28. 'J 'hey
chose rather to sacrifice their children to iMoloch than
their sheep and oxen to Jehovah. There was no opi-
nion so absurd, no worship so puerile, no idolatry so
gross as not to be admitted among them. Having
shaken oiF the ties of religion, the bridles of corrupt
passions, they threw the reins on the necks of the
most ungovernable dispositions, and rushed furiously
into all the worst vices of the nations round them.
With this conduct the prophets were always reproach-
ing them, and particularly Ezekiel in these words, in

whicl^

12S God's Controversy with Israel.

which, he describes this wretched people under an
image the most odious that can be imagined. " O how
weak is thine heart, saith the Lord God, seeing thou
doest all these things ! O wife committing adultery,
taking strangers instead of thy husband ! They give
gifts to all whores : but thou givest thy gifts to all thy
lovers, and hirest them that they may come unto thee
on every side for thy whoredom. The contrary is in
thee from other women in thy whoredoms, w^hereas
none followeth thee to commit whoredoms, and in that
thou givest a reward, and no reward is given unto
thee," Ezek. xvi. 30, &c. These words give us shocking
ideas of this people ; for if it was an abomination under
the law to " bring the hire of a whore into the house of
the Lord," Deut. xxiii. 18. for an offering, how much
greater abomination must it be to apply the offerings
of the Lord to the support of prostitutes !

Their crimes were aggravated, too, by the innu-
merable blessings which God bestowed on them.
The prophet reminds them of these in the words that
follow the text. " Remember, O my people, I redeem-
ed thee out of the house of servants, remember what
Balak consulted, and what Balaam answered." What
favour did this people receive ! What numberless
engagements to fear God ! He made a covenant
with them, he divided the sea to let them pass
over, he gave them bread from heaven to eat, he cleft
the rock to give them drink, he brought them into the
country of which Moses had said, " The land whether
ye go is a land which the Lord thy God careth for ;
the eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon it, from
the beginning of the year, even unto the end of the
year," Deut. xii. 12. Moreover, all their temporal
blessings Avere types and pledges of spiritual benefits,
either then bestowed, or promised in future. After so
many favours on God's part, after so many crimes on
the part of the people, had not the Lord reason to
ic'omplain ? Was ever controversy more just than this ?

My

God^s Controversy with hraeL 129

My brethren, you have certainly been often shocked
&t reading the history of this people ; you have blamed
their idolatry ; you have detested their ingratitude ;
you have condemned the carelessness of their pastors,
and all the vices of the people; But what would you
say if we could prove that the excesses of priests and
peo .vie are greater under the gospel than under the
law ? The Lord's controversy with you affirms this,
4nd this we must now examine*

But which of us ministers, which of us has courage
to enter into this detail ? And which of you christian
people would have humility enough to hear us out
without murmuringj trembling with indignation, and
exclaiming against your reprover, Awaij with him,
awaif with him ! Surprising ! When we just now plead-
ed the unjust cause of man against the Creator, the
patient Creator satisfied every inquiry ; the earth did
not open under our feet to swallow us up ; no fire from
heaven came down to destroy us ; but every article of
the controversy received a full answer* Now that we
ought to proceed to hear the complaints of the Creator
against us, I already hear every one murmuring, and
refusing to pay as miich regard to the just complaints
of God, as God condescended to pay to those which
had no foundation in. reason and equity j

Wellj we will speak to you in your own way; we will
treat you as sick people are treated when their physi-
cians are obliged to disguise remedies, and conceal
operations necessary to their recovery, we will decide
nothing ; but we will leave eadh of you to judge of
his own conduct. We will only produce a few of the
articles of God's controversy with you, and propose a
few maxims for you to examine ; but if there remain
the least degree of rectitude in youj we conjure you
to apply these maxims in earnest to yourselves.

First. When God distinguishes a people by signal fa-
vours^ thepeoj^le ought to distinguish themselves hy graii-
Igjide to him. The equity of this maxim is clear to

VOL. IV. I everv

ISO God's Controversy with Israel.

every one of iis, and nobody will dispute it. I ask
then, were any people in the world ever favoured of
heaven as the people of these provinces have been ? A
people (permit me to go back to your origin) a people
formed amidst grievous oppressions and barbarous im-
positions ; a people subject to tyrants more cruel than
the Pharaohs of Egypt ; a people not ashamed to call
themselves beggars, and to exhibit poverty on their
standards ; a people who, in tlie space of six months,
gave up six thousand of themselves to racks and gib-
bets ; a people risen from this low condition into the
present state of magnificence ; a people who, placed
in a corner of the world, and occupying only a few
acres, extend their influence over the whole world ; a
people opposing at the same time two great kings ; a
people in whose favour the sea suspended its usual
flux on the day that was to decide the fate of these
provinces for ever ; a people whose forts were all oc-
^cupied by the enemy, and who^ when they had nothing
to trust to but the unavailing fidelity of a few citizens.,
saw the enemy that came out against them one \cay,jtee
before them seven ways, D'eut. xxviii. 7. a people in-
habiting a cbtnitry formed, (if I may speak so,)
against the laws of nature, but which the God of
nature supports as it were by miracle ; a people tax-
ing, governing, and making laAvs for themselves ; a
people walking in the light of the gospel shiriing in
all its glory, and enjoying the reformation in its ut-
most j)urity. This is only an imperfect sketch of th&
blessings which God in distinguishing mercy confei^s
on you. Do you distinguish yourselves by your gra-
titude ? Is there ill ore piety among you than among
other nations ? Is there a greater attention to the word
of God, and more deference to his laws ? Are there
more good examples in parents, and are their children
better educated than others ? Is there more zeal for
family religion ? Is the truth more highly esteemed,
and is more done for the propagation of the gospel ?

D&

God^s Controversy ivith Israel. 1 3 i

Do the ?:iifFevings of pious persons for religion excite
inore compassion ? I pronounce nothing. I decide
nothing. I leave you to judge of your own conduct.

Perhaps some of my hearers, whom the correcting
hand of God hath long pursued, arid #hom he seems
to reserve fis monuments of his lasting displeasure,
perhaps they may think this maxim concerning the
blessings of providence does not regard them. But
shall we be so ungrateful as not td acknowledge the
benefits bestov/ed on us ? And shall Ave be so insensible
as not to mourn over our own ingratitude ?

My brethren, let us look back a little. Let us for
a moment turn our eyes to the land of our nativity,
from which we are banished ; let us remember the
timej when, to use the language of the psalmist, we
went ih " a multitude to the house of God with the
voice of joy and praise," Psal. xli. 4. nor let us forget
the many advantages, v/hich we enjoyed till the day of
our exile. How happy a climate ' What an agreeable
society ! What opportunities for commerce ! What a
rapid progress in arts and sciences ! Was our gratitude
proportioned to the liberal gifts of God? Alas! the
exile we lament, the dispersion that separ?(tes us from
our nearest relations, the lassitude we fee\, the tears
we shed, ar^ not these sad, but sufficient proofs of our
insensibility arid ingratitude ? This is the first articia
of God's controversy against us, and this is the first
inaxim of self-examination.

The second regards the chastisements of God.
When men are under the hand of an angry God, they are
<called to moyrning aiid contrition. Pleasures, innocent
in other circumstances, are guilty in this case. Youper-»
eeive at once the truth of this maxim. God by his
prophet says to you, " Hear ye the rod^ and who hath
Appointed it," Micah vi. 9. One of hi^ most cutting
reproofs to his people was this, " In that day did tl-fe
Lord God of hosts call to weeping", and to mournins',
and to baldness, and to. girding with saekloth ; and

^2 behold.

tS2 God's Controversy with Israel,

behold, joy and gladness, slaying oxen and killing
sheep, eating flesh and drinking wine ; let us eat and
drink, for to-morrow we shall die. And it was re-
vealed in mine ears by the Lord of hosts. Surely this
iniquity shall not be purged from you tilt ye die," Isa^
xxii. 12, he. Thus, in like manner, another prophet
complained to his God, " O Lord, thou hast stricken
them, but they have not grieved \ thou hast consumed
them, but they have refused to receive instructionb ;
they have made their faces harder than a rock, they
have refused to return," Jer. v. 3.

Now, my brethren, though tlie blessings af provi-
dence surround us, yet it is plain we are at present
under the rod of correction. I lay aside alt the afflic-
tions just now mentioned ; I will not remind you of
gibbets, and racks, and tortures, subjects so proper to-
banish from our minds the senseless joy that fills them,
were we either " grieved for the affliction of Joseph,
er pleased to remember the dust of Zion." I will speak
only of the cause of our assembling now, of this cruel
and tragical war. Is not the destroying angel gone
abroad ? Doth not the " sword of the Lord, drunk with
blood," turn the whole universe into one vast grave ?
Are your fortunes, your liberties, or your religion safe ?
Should your fleets and armies be always victorious in
future, would not your husbands, and relations, and
friends be in imminent danger ? Would our victories
cost us no tears ? Would not our laurels be bloody ?
Alas ! the tears of some mother having lost her son,
the sighs of some wife having lost her husband, the
complaints of some friend who had lost a friend, would
not these interrupt our songs of triumph, and mix
mournful sounds among our shouts of joy?

We are, then, under the correcting hand of God,,
Yet what impressions do these frightful objects make
on us? What effects are produced in our souls by
oljjects so proper to fill them with fear and trembling ?
Have we broke up any party of pleasure ? Have we

kept

God's Controversy with Israel. 1^3

\ept away from any public amusement? Have we
laid aside any festivals and public shews ? Is nothing
to be seen among us but fasting and weeping, sack-
cloth and ashes ? Would not any stranger who should
see us, say every thing succeeded according to our
wishes ; that there was no danger, no war, no blood
shedding, no probability of another campaign, that
should cover the earth with the limbs of the dead ?
This is the second article of God's controversy with us.
This is the second ground of examination. I pro-
nounce nothing. I decide nothing. I leave you to
judge of your own conduct.

The third maxim regards the end of preaching and
the ministry. To attend public worship is not to obtain
the end of the ministry. Not to become wise by attending
is to increase our miseries by aggravating our sins. On
this principle we affirm, that every time our places of
worship are opened, every time you attend public
service, every time you hear a sermon, you are re-
quired to derive some real benefit, answerable to the
end proposed. Is it so ? When we survey this as-
sembly, and look on it with eyes of flesh, the sight
strikes every beholder with surprise and awe. Here
are princes, magistrates, generals, men excelling in
learning and science of every kind. We can hardly
find in all Europe so many venerable personages as-
sembled in so small a place. Moreover, here is all the
exterior of piety, assiduity, attention, eagerness, a
great concourse of people, and every thing that looks
Jike zeal and fervour. Yet the end, the great end of
the ministration of ihe divine word, is it even known
among us ?

When each of you come into this holy place, do you
think what you are going to do ? When you enter the
house of God, do you keep your feet, according to the
language of a prophet ? When you approach this
desk, doe^ your heart accompany him who prays ?
Poes your fervour rise up with his petitions, and does

your

134^ God-s6ontrovars^ with I^yael,

your soul warmly unite itself with his reqiiests tq si^^
plicate the throne of grace, and to g,vert the anger of
Almighty God ? When you hear a sermon, have you
the docility requisite to such as receive instruction ?
Does your memory retain the doctrines taught ? Does
your heart apply to itself the searching truths some-
times delivered ? When you return home do you recol-
lect what you have beenhearing ? Do you ever converse
about it afterward ? Do you require any account of
your children and servants of their profiting ? In a
word, Avhat good comes of all the exhortations, expos-
tulations, and arguments used among you ? I pro-
nounce nothing. I decide nothing. I leaye you once
more to judge of your own conduct.

Our fourth maxim regards slander. Slander is a
vice impure in its sowxe, dangerous, in its effects, generul
in its influence, irreparable in its consequences ; a vice
that strikes at once three mortal hloius ; it wounds him
ovho commits it, him against whom it is committed, an4
him who sees it committed. It is tolerated in society, only
because every one has an invincible inclination to commit
it. Examine this place on this article. Are not your
slanders famous even in distant dimes? Do not
strangers and travellers observe your propensity to thi^
vice ? Are not many of you cruelly attentive to the
conduct of your neighbours, and always asking, Where
is he ? Whence does he come ? What is he about ?
Wliat are his 0])inions ? Have you no pleasure in dis-
covering people's imperfections ? Does not malice pu-
blish some vices, which charity ought to conceal P-Are
no tales invented? none eidarged? Nocalumniesadded?
Are not the characters of the most respectable persons
attacked, of heads of families, magistrates, and mini-
sters ? Is not one unreasonably taxed with heresy,
another with fraud, another with criminal intrigues,
and so on ? This is the fourtii article of God's contro-
versy. 1 pronounce notlting. I decide notliing. I
leave vou to judo:e pf vour own actions.

Fifthly.

GM^s Coniroversjf with Israel 1 35

Fifthly. If the (gangers that threaten z^s, and the
blows that providence strikes, ought to affect us all, they
.ought to affect those f?iost of all luho are most exposed to
ihem. To explain ourselves. There is not one of us
so secure, there is no credit so finn, no house so esta-
ijlished, no fortune so safe, as not to be affected by
this war. Consequently, there is not anyone person
who ought not, by fervent prayer, and genuine piety,
to endeav:our to engage heaven to })rosper our armies.

It is, however, clear beyond a doubt, that our ge-
nerals, officers, and soldiers have a particular and per-
sonal concern in the approaching campaign, ^rlen
who, beside all the infirmities and dangers to which
human nature is subject, and to which they are ex-
posed in common Vv'ith all mankind, are going to ex^
pose themselves to the dangers of sieges and battles,
and all other concomitants of war ; they who are al^
ways contending with death; they who march every
day through fires and flames ; they who have always
the sound of warlike instruments in their ears, crying
with a thundering voice, Remember ye are mortal ;
people of this profession, ought not they to be more
affected Avith these objects than we who see tliem
Jowly at a distance ? And, consequently, ought not they
to enter with greater sincerity into the religious dispo-
r^itions which such objects are apt to excite ? This is
the m<ixim, the fifth article of God's controversy with
us.

Sec, exaiiiine. Is piety respected among your
troops ? Does the ark of the Lord always go at the
head of your army? Does the pillar of a cloud direct
your steps ? Does benevolence animate you towards
one ajiother, partners as. you are in common danger?
Do the months that are ready to utter the last sigh,
open only to bless the Creator, and to commit to hini
a soul hovering on the lips, and ready to depart ? Are
ofiences against Jesus Christ punished as severely as
oflenjces agfijnst oflSc^rs m |he army? " Do ye provoke

the

JS6 God's Controversy with Israel

ihe Lord to jealousy? Are ye stronger than he? 1 Cor,
X. 22. Would you force a victory in sj;ite of him ?
Would you triumph without God, or would you have
him succeed your attempts, when you carry impiety
on your foreheads, irreligion in your hearts, and blas-
phemy in your mouths ? I pronounce nothing I
decide nothing. I leave each of you to draw such inr
ferences from this maxim as naturally belong it.

Our sixth maxim regards gaming. If gaming be
innocent in any circumstances, they are uncommon and
rare. It is easier to renounce this pleasure than to en-
joy it without excess. Examine yourselves on this ar-
ticle. Are there none of us to whom gaming is be-
come necessary ? Nope who relish no other pleasure ?
Are there no fathers ^nd mothers who train up their
families in it, and embolden them by their examples?
Is there no opulent man who imagines he has a right
to spend his fortune in gaming ? Is there no necessi-
tous person w ho hazards the support, yea the daily
bread of his family in this practice ? I determine no-
thing. I pronounce nothing. I l^ave you to judge of
your own actions.

'But why not pronounce ? Why not decide? Where-
fore respect false delicacy? " Why not declare the
whole counsel of God ?" Acts xx. 27. " Why strive to
please men ?" GaL i, 10. Ah, my brethren ! were I to
hold my peace, the walls, and the pillars, and the arches
of this l^Tiilding, the hills and the mountains would rise
up in judgment against you. " Hear, ye mountains,
hear ye hills, hear the Lord's controversy. The Lord
hath a controversy with his people, and he will plead
with Israel." Yea, the Lord hath a controversy with
you. His reproofs would cleave your hearts asunder,
and dissolve you in floods of tears, were you capable
of reflections and emotions, He complains of all the
vices we have mentioned. He complains that you are
insensible to the most terrible threatenings of his mouth,
ajid the heaviest strokes of bis hand. Hp complains

God's Controversy iviih Israel i 37

that ye bite and devour one another like wild and sar
vage beasts. He complains that impiety, irreligion,
and intemperance reig;i over those souls which are
formed for the honour of having God for their king.
He complains that you forget the excellence of your
nature, and the dignity of your origin, and that you
occupy your immortal souls with amusements unwor-
thy of the attention, of creatures having the least de*
gree of intelligence. He complains that exhortations,
expostulations, and intreaties, the most forcible and
affecting, are almost always without success. He
complains of some abominable crimes which are com-
mitted in the face of th^ sun, and of others that are
concealed under the darkness of the night, the hor-
rors of which I dare not even mention in this place de-
dicated to the service of God. He complains that
you force him, as it were, to lay aside his inclination
to bless you, and oblige him to chastise you with seve-
rity. Behold ! the storm gathers, the thunder mutters
and approaches, the lightning is ready to flash in our
faces, unless our fasting, and sackcloth, and ashes avert
these judgments which threaten us, or, shall I rather
say, which are already falling upon us ?

Such is the controversy of God with you ; these are
his complaints. It is your part to reply. Justify your-
selves, plead, speak, answer. ** O my people, what
have I done unto thee ? What have you to say in your
own behalf? How can you justify your ingratitude,
your insensibility, your luxury, your calumnies, your
dissipations, your lukewarmness, your worldly mind-
edness, your pride, your unworthy communions, your
forgotten fasts, your false contracts, your broken re^
solutions, the hardeningofyour hearts against threaten^
ings and promises, and personal chastisements, some
public calamities already inflicted on the church, and
others ready to overwhelm it? Have we any thing
to reply ? Again I say, justify yourselves, plead,
jppeak, answer.

Ah,

ISS God-s Controversy with Israel:

All, my brethren, my bretlu'en ! am I deceiving my^
self; I think I see your hearts in your countenances,
and read in your faces the reply you are going to make,
Methinks I see your hearts penetrated with genuine
grief, your faces covered with holy confusion, and your
Xyes flowing with tears of godly sorrow. Methinks
I hear the language of your consciences, all " broken
^nd contrite, and treanbling at the word of- the Lord,"
Psal. li. 1 9 ; methinks 1 hear each of you say, '* though
I were righteous, yet would I not answer : but I would
pake supplication to my judge," Isa. Ixvi. 2. Job. ix;.
J 5* This v/as the disposition of the people after liiey
had heard Micah. Gcd said, " O my people, what
have I done unto thee ? wherein have I wearied tliee ?
testify against me." And the people, afTlicted oix ae-?
count of their sins, afraid of the judgments of God, alj
wounded and weighed down Vv ith a sense of guilty
confused and astonished at their condition, replied,
.f^ Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow
myself before the high God?"

This was the answer of the Jews, and this is the
answer we expect of you. Let each of you say,
" Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow
myself before the high God ?" How shall I turn away
those torrents of divine judgments whieh threaten to
overwhelm the christian world? We, the ministers
of Christ, we answer in the name of God, prevent
them by sighs and tears of genuine repentance,
prevent them by cool, constant, and effectual resolur
tions, by effusions of love, and by increasing zeal for uni-
versal obedience.

This ouglit to be the work of this day ; it is the de-
sign of the fast, and the aim of this sermon ; for it i§
not sufScient, my brethren, to trace the controversy
of God with you, it must be finished, the parties must
be reconciled, and each of us must yield obedience to
the voice that says to every one of us, " he may make
peace with me, he shall make peace with me," Isa.
:;:xvii. 5.
' Magistrates,

God's: Controuers.^ mth Ismqi, 13^,

Magistrates, princes, npblemea, ministers, people^
parents, children, will you not all of you embrace
this invitation ? Do you not solemnly protest, in the
presence of heaven and earth, and before the angels,
that wait in tliis assembly, that you prefer this peace
before all the riches in the world ? Do you not all re-
solve, w:ith the utmost sincerity and good faith, never
more wilfully to break the commandments of Cod?
OLord thou knawest all things, thou knowestthe hearts
of all mankind, thy searching eyes survey tke mpst
secret purposes of the souls of all this assembly !

If each of us reply thus to God, let us cherish thQ.
pleasure that is inspired by the return of his favour.
Christians, what came you out to-xlay to see ? What
came you out to hear ? God pleading before you, God
justifying himself, God convicting you : yet, after all,
God pardoning you. What may we not expect from
a God so patienjt and kind.

Lo ! I see on a happy future day the tears of Zion
wiped away, the mourning of Jerusalem ended, our
captives freed from bondage, our galley-slaves from
chains.

I see on a happy future day victory following our
march, our generals crowned w ith laurels, and every
campaign distinguished by some new triumph. ,

Methinks I behold, on some future day, our prayers
exchanged for praise, our fasts for solemn festivals,
bur mourning for joy and triumph, and all the faithful,
assembled to-day to implore the aid of the God of ar-
mies, again convoked to bless the God of victory, and
making this place echo with repeated shouts, '"' The
right hand of the Lord is exalted. The right hand of
the Lord hath done valiantly. The sword of the Lord
and Gideon." Psal, cxviii. 16. Judg. vii. 20.

I see on some happy future day our enemies con-
founded ; one post running to meet another, one mes-
senger to meet another, to shew the king of Babylon
that his army is routed. I ?ee commerce flourishing

among

140 Goii's Coniroversy with Israel.

umong this people, and liberty for ever established in
these provinces.

Go then, generous warriors, go verify these pleasing
omens, go hoiily prodigal of spilling your blood in de-
fence of liberty, religion, and your country. May the
God of armies return you victorious as rapidly as oiir
wishes rise ! May he re-vmite the many hearts, and re-
assemble the many families, which this campaign is
going to separate ! May he prevent the shedding of
human blood ; and, while he makes you conquerors,
may he spare the people subdued by you ! May he
return you to wear the crowns and laurels which our
hands will be eagerly preparing for you ! May he, after
he shall have granted you all a long and happy life,
useful and glorious to the state and to your families,
open the gates of eternal happiness to you, and fix you
for ever in the temple of peace ! To him be honour
and glory hencefprth and for ever. Amen.

1SERM0N

SERMON VI.

^lie Harmony of Religion and Civil Polfti/^

Proverbs xiv. 34.

Righteousness exalteth a Nation,

^p'O propose maxims of civil polity in a religious a^»
sembly, to propose maxims of religion in a political
assembly, are two things, which seem alike senseless
and imprudent. The christian is so often distinguish-
ed from the statesman, that, it would seem, they were
opposite characters. We have been lately taught to
believe, that Jesus Christ, by giving us an idea of a
society more noble than any we can form upon earth,
hath forbidden us to prevent the miseries of this state,
and to endeavour to procure the glory of it. It hath
been said, that kingdoms and states cannot be elevated
without violating the laws of equity, and infringing
the rights of the church.

How general soever this odious notion may have
been, hardly any one hath appeared openly to avow
it till of late. The impudence of pleading for it was
reserved for our age, for a christian admitted into your
provinces, cherished in your bosom, and O shame of
our churches ! appearing among protestant refugees.

142 The Harmony of Religion and Civil Politij.

as the Devil formerly presented himself before the
Lord, among the angels of God.*

We propose to-day, my brethren, to endeavour to
unravel the sophisms of this author, to shew you the
agreement of religion with civil polity, and to esta-
blish this proposition, that as there is nothing in re-
ligion to counteract the design of a wise system of civil
polity, so there is nothing in a wise system of civil
government to couiiteract the design of the christian
religion. It was the wisest of all kings who taught
us this lesson. He speaks of the eartlfatioji of a nation,
and this is the end of civil polity. He speaks of righie^
ousnes3, and this is the design of religion, or rather
this is religion itself. He affirms that the latter is the
foundation of the former, and this is the agreement of
religion with civil government. It is righteousness^
saith he, It is righicmLsness that exalteth a nation.

This proposition of Solomon needs both explication
and proof ; and this discourse is intended to furnish
both.

In dur fiM part ^ve Will state the question, fix the
sense of these ter'nnts, righteousness^ exalfation ; tve
will set aside the various false seriscs which Occasioned'
the opinion that we intend to oppose ; and by these
means we will preclude such objectii^ns as maybfe
made against our doctHne.

In the second part we will allege some aTgumeltts
fn favour of the proposition contained in ih^ text, whetf
properly explained, and so prove tlidt righteousness
emlfeth a nation.

This nation is exalted, my brethren ; but, allow me
to say, it is not by its rigldeousness. We have not there-
fore chosen this text to create an opportunity of mak-
ing encomiums on you ; but we treat of the subject in
order to fix your attention on tlie proper means df
preserving and augmenting ybwY elevulion. Happy

*VoyGz Baylc;, Continiiat. des pensecs divers, fom. ii. parg. 598.

The Marmchfiy of Religwn and •Civil i^oltiif, 1 ^h

if our design nieet witli success ; happy if we contri*

l)iile, thoui^h not according to the extent of our wishes,
yet, according to the utmost of our ability, to the glory
df this state.

T. We just now msinuat-ed, that th^ false glosses
put upon ^theiihraxim of the wise man, were the ^prin-
cipal caui^Cs of our backwardness to admit tli^ truth
of it. It is therefore important to state the question
clearly.

1. When we affirm that rigJtteoiisness and religion in
general, (for it woukl be easy to prove that the word
righteousness, in the text, is to be taken in this vague
sense,) I saV, A^-hen we affirm that religion exalldtli a
natiov, we do not me^^n such a religion as many ima^
gine. We ingenuously acknowledge, and wdtiM to
God the whole world acknowledged, that neitJior the
religion of a cruel man, nor the religion of k super-
stitious person, nor the religion of an enthusiast, c^n
exalt a nation.

How can the religirdn of a crz/e/iiian exalt a nation ?
The religion of such men is too well known for ^\\e
peace of Europe. Such as these, untler pretence of
devotion, cut a free Course for their own black nhd
inflexible passions. These arrft themselves with the
civil sword, to destroy all Vvho doubt the truth of their
systems ; they put violence in the place ef demon-
stration, and endeavour to establish the gospel as if
it were the koran of Mohammed, by force and con-
straint. These characters, as I just now said, are too
well known for the peace of Europe. Even no vr, while I
speak, I behold many Avho have Suffered under such
cruelty, and have opposed the strongest arguments*
against it. No,- my brethren, this is not th.e religion
iAi2i% exa!(teih\i ndiioh. Such a relr^iori depopulates
states, ruins commerce, and is a never failing j^ourcc
of civil wars and intestine commotions. The reli-^
gion of which we ^Jieak, is a kiMy patient, gentle

religion ;

ii4f The Harm67ii/ of Religion and Civil Polity i

religion ; a religion, the grand character of which is
forbearance, benevolence^ and fraternal love ; a religion
inimical to error and heresy *, but which, however, pi^
ties the erroneous and the heretic ; a religion which
Exerts itself to eradicate false doctrines ; but which
leaves each at liberty to admit the truth ; a religion
^ which hath no other sword than the sword of the SinriU
nor any other weapon than that of the word.

How can the religion of a superstitions man exalt a
nation ? It makes devotion degenerate into idleness,
it increaseth the number of ecclesiastics, and so renders
many members useless to society. It wastes, in pretend-
edly pious foundations, immense sums, which might
have contributed to the advancement of arts and
sciences. It generates scruples in the minds of states-
tnen, and so restrains the exercise of those fme facul*
ties which God created for the good of the state. It
puts the casuist in the place of the prince, and the
prince in the place of the casuist ■ the casuist on the
throne, and the prince in confession at his feet. No,
my brethren, this is not the religion of which we
speak. The religion of which we speak, is opposite
to superstition. It is just and solid, requiring us to
" render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's^ and
unto God the things that are God's," Matt. xii. 1 7. It
prescribes bounds to sov^ereigns, but it requires easuists^
also to know their place.

How can the religion of an enthusiast contribute to
the exaltation of a nation ? The soul of an enthusiast
is always agitated with visions and reveries. He inces-
santly thrusts himself into the company of the great,
in t)rder to inspire them with his own spirit, and to
breathe into them the soul of enthusiasm ^ He endea-
vours to animate governors called to watch over a
state, and to conduct the people to national happiness,
with his wild schemes. He is always talking of ex-
tirpating the reformation, and thundering excommu-
laications against those who do not enter into his ex-
travagant

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity, 145

travagant projects ; his anathemas are as extravagant
and wild as the projects themselves. This is not the
religion of which we speak. The religion that.(^u:-
alteth a nation is derived from the treasures of the. .
Divine Intelligence ; it was formed in tlie mind of
that sublime Spirit from whom wisdom proceeds, as
the stream flows from the spring: and not in the,
ideas of a disordered brain, nor in the dreams of a vi-''
sionary.

We wish you to take religion and righteousness lA-
the true sense of the terms, This is our first elucida-
tion. This is the first precaution that must; be used to-
understand the state of the question.

2. We do not mean to affirm that the true religion ■
is so necessary in all its doctrines, and in all the ex-
tent of its precepts ; that there are no instances of the
flourishing of societies, which have not been wholly .
regulated by it. We acknowledge that some societies
of men, who have been only partially governed by its
maxims, have enjoyed long and glorious advantages
upon the theatre of the world ; either because their
false religions contained some principles of rectitude ia
common with the true religion ; or because God, in
order to animate such people to practise some virtues,
superficial indeed, but, however, necessary to the
being of society, annexed success to the exercise of
them ; or because he prospered them to answer some
secret designs, of his wisdom ; or because, iin^jiy, recti-
tude wa,s never so fully established on earth as to pre-
clude injustice from enjoying^the advantages of virtue,
or virtue from suffering the penalties of vice. How-
ever it were, we allow the fact, and we only affirm that
the most sure method that a nation can take to sup-
port and exalt itself, is to follow the laws of righte-
ousness and the spirit of religion. This is a second
elucidation, tending to state the question clearly.

3. We do not affirm, that in every particular case
religion is more successful in procuring some temporal

VOL. IV. K advantage

1 46 The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity.

advantage than the violation of it ; so that to consider
society only in this point of light, and to confine it
to this fjarticular case, independently of all other cir-
cumstances, religion yields the honour of prosperity to
injustice. We allow some state crimes have been
successful, and have been the steps by which some
people have acquired worldly glory. We even al-
low, that virtue hath sometimes been an obstacle to
grandeur. AVe only affirm, that if a nation be con-
sidered in^every point of light, and in all circum-
stances, if all things be weighed, it will be found
that the more a society practises virtue, the more pros-
perity it will enjoy. We affirm, that the more it
abandons itself to vice, the more misery will it sooner
or later suffer ; so that the very vice which contri-
buted to its exaltation will produce its destruction ;
and the very virtue, which seems at first to abase it,
will in the end exalt its glory. This is a third eluci-
dation.

4. We do not mean by exaltation that sort of eleva-
tion at which worldly heroes, or rather tyrants, aspire.
We ackno^yjedge tl^at, if by exalting a nation be un-
derstood an elevation extending itself beyond the li-
mils of rectitude, and elevation not directed by justice
and good faith, an elevation consisang of the acqui-
sitions of wanton and arbitrary power, an elevation
obliging the whole world to submit to a yoke of
slavery, and so Ijecoming an executioner of divine ven-
geance on all mankind ; we allow that, in this sense,
exaltation is not an effect of righteousness. But, if we
understand by exalting a nation whatever governs with
gentleness, negociates with success, attacks with cou-
rage, defends with resolution, and constitutes the hap-
piness of a people, whatever God always beholds with
favourable eyes ; if this be what is meant by exalting a
nation, we affirm a nation is exalted only by righte-
pusriess.

5 An fine, we do not affirm that the prosperity of

such

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity, 147

such a nation would be so perfect as to exclude all
untoward circumstances. We only say, that the
iiighest glory and the most perfect happiness which
can be enjoyed by a nation in a world, where, after
all, there is always a mixture of adversity with pros-
perity, are the fruits of righteousness. These eluci-
dations must be retained, not only because they ex-
plain the thesis which we are supporting, and be-
cause they are the ground of what we shall hereafter
^ay ; but also because they serve to preclude such ob-
jections, to solve such difficulties, and to unravel such
sophisms, as the author whom we oppose urges against
us.

One argument against us is taken from the abuses
which religion hath caused in society; but this ob-
jection is removed, by taking away false ideas of re-
ligion. A second objection is taken from the case of
some idolatrous nations, who, though they were
strangers to revealed religion, have yet arrived at a
great height of worldly glory ; but this objection is
removed by our second elucidation. A third objec-
tion is taken from some particular case, in which vice
is of more advantage to a state than virtue ; but this
objection falls before the manner in which we have
stated the question". A fourth objection is taken from
extravagant notions of glory; but this objection is
removed by distinguishing true exaltation from false.
Finally, an objection is taken from the evils which
the most virtuous societies suffer ; and v/e have ac-
knowledged, that this world will always be to pub>-
lic bodies what it is to individuals, a place of misery ;
and we have contented ourselves with affirming, that
the most solid happiness which can be enjoyed here,
hath righteouGness for its cause. The narrow limits
to which we are confined, will not allow us to carry
our reflections any further. They, however^ who
meditate profwmdly on the matter, will easily per-
.ceive that all these objections are, if not abundantly

refuted^

1 48 The Harmony of Religion and Civil PoVitij.

refuted, at least sufficiently precluded by our explica^
tions.

We will now proceed to shew the grounds of the
maxim of the wise man. We will open six sourcei*
of reflections ; an idea of society in general ; the con-
stitution of each government in particular ; the nature
of arts and sciences ; the conduct of providence ; the
promises of God hiiiiself ; and the history of all ages.
These articles make up the, remainder of this dis-
course.

II. 1 . Let us first form an idea of society in general^
and consider the motives which induced mankind to
unite themselves in society, and to fix themselves in
one place. By doing this, v/p shall perceive, that
righteousness is the only thing that can render nations
happy. Every individual hath infinite wants ; but
only finite faculties to supply them. Each individual
of mankind hath need of knowledge to inform him,
laws to direct him, property to support him, medi-
cines to relieve him, aliments to nourish him, cloth-
ing and lodging to defend himself against the injuries
pf the seasons. How easy would it be to enlarge this
catalogue ! Similar interests form a similar design.
Divers men unite themselves together, in order that
the industry of all may supply the wants of each.
This is the origin of societies and pubjic bodies of
men.

It is easy to comprehend that, in order to enjoy the
blessings proposed by this assem]}lage, some fixed
maxims must be laid down and inviolably obeyed.
It will be necessary for all the members of this body
to consider themselves as naturally equal, tjiat by this
idea they may be inclined to afford each other mutual
succour. It will be necessary that they should be
sincere to each other, lest deceit should serve for a
veil to. conceal the fatal designs of some from the eyes
of the rest. It will be necessary for all to observe

the

The Harmoiiij of Rdigion and Civil Polity, 14D

the rules of rigid equity, that so they may fulfil the
contracts which they bound themselves to perform^
when they were admitted into this society. It will be
necessary that esteem and benevolence should give
life and action to righteousness. It will be necessary
that the happiness of all should be preferred before the
interest of one ; and that in cases Avhere public and
private interests clash, the public good should always
prevail. It will be necessary that each should culti-
vate his own talents, that he may contribute to the
happiness of that society to which he ought to devote
himself with the utmost sincerity and zeal.

Now, my brethren, what can be more proper to
make us observe these rules than religion, than righte-
ousness P Religion brings us to feel our natural equality;
It teach eth us that we originate in the same dust, have
the same God for our Creator, are all descended from
the same first parents, all partake of the same miseries^
and are all doomed to the same last end. Religion
teacheth us sincerity to each other, that the tongfue
should be a faithful interpreter of the mind, that Ave
should " speak every man truth with his neighbour,'*
Eph. iv. 25. and that, being always in the sight of the
God of truth, we should never depart from the laws of
truth. Religion teacheth us to be just, that we should
" render to all their dues ; tribute to whom tribute is
due, custom to whom custom, fear to whom fear, ho-
nour to whom honour ; that whatsoever we would men
should do unto us, we should do even so unto them,''
Rom. xiii. 7. Matt. vii. 12. Religion requireth us to
be animated with charity, to consider each other as
creatures of one God, subjects of the same king, mem-
bers of one body, and heirs of the same glory. Religion
requiretli us to give up private interest to public good,
not to seek our own, but every one another's wealth ;
it even requireth us to lay down our lives for the breth-
ren. Thus, by considering nations in tiiese primitive
views, it \^ righteousness alone that exalts \\\Q\Vi.

a But

150 The Harmony of Religion and Civil Poliiy.

2. But all this k too vague. We proceed next i&
consider eaehform of government in particular. It is
impracticable for all the memT>ers of society^ on every
pressing occasion, to assemble together and giwo: their
suffrages. Public bodies, therefore, agree to set apart
some of their number who are accounted the soul,
the will, the determination of the whole. Some na-
tions have committed the supreme power to one, whont
they call a Monarch ; this is a monarchical state.
Others have committed supreme power to a few of
their own body called Magistrates, Senators, Nobles,
or some other honourable appellation ; this is a re-
public, called in the schools an aristocracy. Others
have diffused supreme power more equally among
all the members of their society, and have placed.
it in all h^ads of families ; this is a popular govern-
ment, usually called a democracy. Society gives its
authority and privileges into the hands of those per-
sons ; it intrusts and empowers them to make laws,,
to impose taxes, to raise subsidies, to make peace,
or to declare war, to reward virtue, to punish vice^r
m one word, to do whatever may be beneficial to
the whole society, with the felicity of which they are
intrusted.

If we consider those various forms of government^
we shall find that eacii nation will be more or less
happy in its own mode of governing,^ will more or
less prevent the iirconveniencies to which it is subject,
according as it shall have more or less attachment to
religion or righteousness.

What are the particular inconveniencies of a mo-
narchical government ? In what cases is monarchy fa-
tal to the liberty, and so to the felicity of the nation ?
When the monarch, instead of making tlie good of the
people his supreme law, follows nothing but his own
caprice. When he thinks himself vested with su-
preme power for his own glor}^ and not for the
glory of his kingdom- When,' by stretching his au-
thority

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity > 15 i

thority beyond its lawful bounds, he endeavours ar-
bitrarily to dispose of the lives and fortunes of his
subjects. When, in order to avenge d, private quar-
rel, or to satiate his thirst for glory, from which
his people derive no benefit, he engageth them in
bloody wars, and sacrificeth them to a vain and
imaginary grandeur. Wheii he wastes the substance
of his people in superb buildings, in excessive embel-
lishments,, and in sumptuous equipages. When he
imposes on them enormous tributes, ahd exorbitant
taxes. When he is inaccessible to the widow and the
orphan. When he gives himself up to itidolence,
and doth not study the wants of his subjects. When,
though he appropriates to himself the advantages of
empire, yet, in order to free himself from the fatigue
of governing, he conimits the reins to a rash counsellor
Or to an insolent favourite. When he entertains such
an idea of royalty as one anciently formed, who de-
fined it a right to do whatever we will with impunity 5
such an idea as that, which a mean flatterer gave of it
to Alexander the Great, Do as many unjust actions as
yoii will, impoverish your subjects by exactions, ex-
tortions, and rapines^ to satisfy your luxury and am-
bition, it is all right, it is all lovely, because you
dioose to have it so.* When, instead of being the
father of his people, Jie strives to be the executionerj
like that brutal Emperor who wished the Roman em-
pire had but one head that he might strike it off at
a blow.f These are the inconvehiencies of the first
kind of government.

In what cases is the second kind of government
hurtful? Is it not when any one of the magistrates,
instead of considering himself as a single member of
the assembly, aims to be the head of it ? When he
intrudes into office by sinister means. When he useth
his power not for the public good, but for the ad"
vancement and glory of his own family. When he

* Plutarch ad princip, indojct. t Sueton. Calig, Chap. Jpt^

i o2 The Hajinony of Religion and Civil PoUhj,

is mean enough to sell his vote. When he ingratiates
hiiil^elf with a number of seditious people, in order to
form cabals, and to engross supreme power. When
he doth not take pains to inform himself of the me-
rits of a cause, before he determine it. Wlien he as-
sociates colleagues with himself, whose incapacity is
intended to be made a foil to his own abilities, instead
of calling in men more able than himself to supply hi's
own defects. In fine, when he makes himself judge
in his own cause.

Let us observe, lastly, when a popular government
becomes hurtful. Is it not when, by a mere principle
of levity, laws are made and unmade by caprice ?
When, under pretence of erpiality, a proper deference
to superior understandings is refused ? When intrigue
and cabal give effect to evil counsels ? When a powei'-
ful action oppresses the virtuous few ? When popu-
lar liberty degenerates into licentiousness and anarchy,
and when the ambition of many becomes an evil a.s
enormous and fatal as the tyranny of one ? These,
and many more, are the imperfections of these three
sorts of government. Need we to take up your time
in proving, that all these ills are most and best pre-
cluded by religion ? Do we not all recollect some
scripture maxims which wovdd restrain these ex-
cesses ? I need not therefore multiply quotations to
prove this point. Is not each of us convinced that,
if we thus consider nations in regard to the forms of
their government, it is righteousness alone that exalts
them ?

3. Our doctrine will appear in a clearer light still,
if we proceed to examine ihe liheral arts and sciences.
The more a society follows the spirit of religion, the
more will religion cherish them under its fostering
wing. .Jurisprudence will flourish, because law will
be disengaged from ambiguity, a\ hich perpetuates ani-
mosities ; because counsellors will plead none but just
causes ; and because judges will never suHer themselves

to

The Hannony of Religion and Civil Politij. 1 58

to Ije corruptod hy gifts, which blind the eyes of the
wise^ but will always decide according- to the spirit of
the law, and the dictates of conscience.

Tlie mUitarij art will flourish, becaiise the soldier
will not defraud the officer, the officer will not defraud
the soldier ; because both will go into the army not
merely to obtain the favour of their governors, but iQ
please God ; because, being prepared to die by an an-
ticipated repentance, their ardour will not be restrain-
ed by the fear of falling into the hands of an angrv
God ; because, should they have neglected to conci-
ciliate the favour of God before a battle, they would
be persuaded, even in the lieat of it, that the best
way to please him would be to discharge the duty of
their office ; whereas, wlien soldiers feel their con-
sciences .agitated, when amidst the discharge of the
artillery of their enemies they discover eternal flames,
when they see hell opening under their feet, and the
horrors of eternal punishment succeeding those of the
field of battle, they will always fight with reluctance,
and endeavour to avoid future misery by fleeing* away
from present death.

In a virtuous state commerce will flourish, because
the merchant, ahvays speaking the truth, and dealing
with good faith, will attract general credit, and confix
dence; always following the rules of wisdom and pnr-
dence, he will never engage in rash undertakings,
which ruin families and subvert whole houses ; not
being animated with avarice or vain glory, he will not
first acquire riches by injustice, and next waste them
with indiscretion ; depending on the blessing of heaven,
all his labours will be enlivened with courage and joy.
. In such a siate divinitj/ v/ill flourish, because each,
burning with zeal for the glory of God, will carefidiy
cultivate a science which hatli God for its object ; be-
cause, being free from a party spirit, he will receive
the truth, whatever hand may present it to him ; be-
<;fause, by referring religion to its chief end, he will

not

1 64) l^he Harmony of Religion and Civil PoUtij.

not spend his life in the pursuit of trifles ; because, full
of zealfor his salvation, he will ])e attentive to every step
towards it ; because, not being enslaved by his passioris^
he will not be enveloped in the dai'kriess produced by
them, or, to express myself ih the language of scripture^
because by doing the will of God, he will know whe-
ther such and such doctrines com^ from the Supreme
Being, or from the preacher only^ John vii- 1 7.

The viechanical arts will flourish in a virtuous state/
because they, on w horn God hath not bestowed genius
equal to the investigation of abstract sciences, whom
he hath fitted for less noble stations in society, wilf
fill up those statioiis with the utmost care, and wifl
be happy in deriving from them such advantages as
they produce. Thus a just notion of arts and Sciences
opens to us a third source of arguments to prove the
truth of our text.

4. The doctrine of providence opens a foiirth, as
others have observed. The conduct of providence itt
regard to public bodies is very different from tha€
which prevails in the case of individuals. In regard to
the latter, providence is involved in darkness. Many
times it seems to condemn virtue and crown injustice,
to leave innocence to groan in silence, and to em-
power guilt to riot and triumph in public. The
wicked rich man fared sumptuously every day, Lazarus
desired in vam to be fed with the crumbs that fell from
his table, Luke xvi. 19, 21. St Paul was executed
on a scaff^old. Nero reigned on Caesar's throne^ And
to say all in one word, Jesus Christ w^s born in a
stable, and Herod lived and died ill ti palace.

But providence is directed in a dift'erent method iii
regard to public bodies. Prosperity irt them is the
effect of righteottsness, public happiness is the re-
ward of public virtue, the wisest nsttion is ustially the
most successful, and virtue walks with glory by lier
side. God sometimes indeed afllicts the most virtuotr&
nations ; but he doth so with the design of purifying

them^

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity. 1 55

fliem, and of opening new occasions to bestow larger
benefits on them. He sometimes indeed prospers
wicked nations ; but their prosperity is an effort of his
patience and long suffering, it is to give them time to
prevent their destruction ; yet, after all, as I said be-
fore, prosperity usually follows righteousness in public
bodies, public happiness is the reward of public virtue,
the wisest ntftion is the most successful, and glory is
generally connected with virtue.

They to whom we are indebted for this reflection
have grounded it on this reason — A day will come
when Lazarus will be indemnified, and the rich mart
punished ; St Paul will be rewarded, and Nero will
be confounded; Jesus Christ will fill a throne, and
Herod will be covered with ignominy. Innocence
will be avenged, justice satisfied, the majesty of the
laws repaired, and the rights of God maintained.

But such a retribution is impracticable in regard to
public bodies. A nation cannot be punished then
as a nation, a province as a province, a kingdom as a
kingdom. All different sorts of government will be
then abolished. One individual of a people will be
put in possession of glory, while another will be covered
with shame and confusion of face. It should seem, then,
that providence owes to its own rectitude those times
of vengeance in which it pours all its wrath on wicked
societies, sends them plagues, wars, famines, and other
catastrophes, of which history gives us so many me-
morable examples. To place hopes altogether on
worldly policy, to pretend to derive advantages from
vice, and so to found the happiness of society on the
ruins of religion and virtue, what is this but to insult
providence ? This is to arouse that power against us,
which sooner or later overwhelms and eonfoaads vici-
ous societies.

5. If the obscurity of the ways of providence, which
usually renders doubtful tlie reasonings of men on its
conduct, weaken the last argument, let us proceed to
consider in the next place the declarations of God

himself

155 The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity.

himself on this article. The whole twenty-eighth
chapter of Deuteronomy, all the ])lessings and cursed
pronounced there fully prove our doctrine. Read this
tender complaint which God formerly made concerning
the irregularities of his people. " O that they were
wise, that they luiderstood this, that they would con-
sider their latter end ! How should one chase a thou-
sand, or two put ten thousand to flight ?" chap, xxxii.
29, 30. Read the affecting words which he uttered by
the mouth of his prophet, " O that my people had
hearkened unto me, and Israel had walked in my ways !
I should soon have subdued their enemies, and turned
my hand against their adversaries. Their time should
have endured for ever. I should have fed them also
with the finest of the Vvdieat ; and with honey out of
the rock should I have satisfied them," Psal. Ixxxi. IS,
!kc, . Read the noble promises made by the ministry of
Isaiah, " Thus saith the Lord thy Redeemer, the holy
One of Israel, 1 am the Lord thy God which teacheth
thee to ' profit, which leadeth thee by the way thou
shouldest go. O that thou hadst hearkened to my
commandments! then had thy peace been as a river,
and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea ; thy seed
also had been as the sand, and thy name should not
have been cut off, nor destroyed from before me," ch.
xlviii. 17, &:c. Read the terrible threatenings de-
nounced by tlK^ prophet Jeremiah^ " Though Moses and
Samuel stood before me, yet my mind could not be
toward this people ; cast them out of my sight, and let
them, go forth. And it shall come to pass, if they say
unto thee, Whither shall we go forth ? then thou shalt
tell them. Thus saith the Lord, Such as are for death,
to death ; and such as are for the sword, to the
swovd; and such as are for the famme, to the fa-
mine; and such as are for the captivity, to the captivity.
And I will appoint over them four kinds, saith the
Lord- ; the sword to slay, and the dogs to tear, and the
fowls of the heaven, and the beasts of the earth, to
devour and destroy. For who lihall have pity upon
thee? (3 .Teru^alem ? or who shall bemoan thee? or

v/ho

2Vie Harmoiij/ of Rdiglon and Civil Polibj. 157

wliD shall go aside to ask how thou doest ? Thou hast
forsaken nie, saith the Lord, thou art gone backward ;
therefore will I stretch out my hand against thee, and
destroy thee; I am weary of repenting," chap. xv. 1,
^x. The language of our text is agreeable to all these
passages ; it is righteousness^ saith the text, it is righ-
teousness that exalieth a nation. Thus God speaks;
moreover, thus he acts, as we shall shew you in the
next article.

6. The historij of all ages affords us another class of
arguments in defence of our doctrine, and so proves the
truth of it by experience.

Had ever preacher a wider or more fruitful field
thau this which opens to our view in this part of our
discourse ? Shall we produce you a list of Egyptians,
Persians, Assyrians, and Greeks, or Romans, who sur-
passed them all ? Shall we shew you all these nations
by turns exalted as they respected righteousness, or
abased as they neglected it ?

By what mysterious art did ancient Egypt subsist
with so much glory during a period of fifteen or six-
teen ages * ? By a benevolence so extensive, that he
who refused to relieve the wretched, when he h^d it
in his power to assist him, w as hipiself punished with
death ; by a justice so impartial, that their kings ob-
liged the judges to take an oath that they would never
do any thing against their own consciences, though
they, the kings themselves, should command them ;
by an aversion to bad princes so fixed as to deny them
the honours of a funeral ; by invariably rendering to
merit public praise, even beyond the grave ; for when
an Egyptian died, a session was held for the direct
purpose of inquiring how he had spent his life, so
that all the respect due to his memory might be paid ;
by entertaining such just ideas of the vanity of life,
as to consider tlieir houses as inns, in which they were
ro lodge, as it were, only for a night, and their se-
pulchres

* Diviidor. Sicil. lib, i. sect. 2. Herod. lib. ii.

1^8 The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity,

pulchres as habitations, in which they were to abide
many ages, in which, therefore, they united all the
solidity and pomp of architecture, witness their fa-
mous pyramids ; by a life so laborious, that even their
amusements were adapted to strengthen the body and
improve the mind ; by a readiness to discharge their
debts so remarkable, that they had a law which pro-
hibited the borrowing of money except on condition
of pledging the body of a parent for payment, a de-
posit so venerable, that a man who deferred the re-
.demption of it was looked upon with horror ; in one
word, by a wisdom so profound, that Moses himself is
renowned in scripture for being learned in it.

By what marvellous method did the Persians obtain
such a distinguished place of honour in ancient histo-
ry* ? By considering falsehood in the most horrid light,
as a vice the meanest and most disgraceful ; by a noble
generosity, conferring favours on the nations they con-
quered, and leaving them to enjoy all the ensigns of
their former grandeur ; by an universal equity, oblig-
ing themselves to publish the virtues of their greatest
enemies ; by observing as an inviolable secret state
affaiiY), so that, to use the language of an ancient aur
thor, neither promises nor threatenings could extort
it, for the ancient laws of the kingdom obliged them
jt'o be silent under pain of death ; by a decorum so
regvdar, that queens and all court ladies quitted the
taijle as soon as ever the company began to lay aside
moderation in drinking ; by religiously recording noble
actions, and transmitting them to posterity in pul)lic
registers ; by educating their children so wisely, that
jthey were taught virtue as other nations were taught
letters ; by discovering no grief for such youths as
died uneducated. The children of the royal family
were put at fourteen years of age into the hands of
four of the wisest and most virtuous statesmen. The
iirst taught them the worship of the gods ; t^e second

trained

* Herod. |ib. i. iii. Plat. Alcib. 1.

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity, 15^

trained them up to speak truth and practise equity ;
the third habituated them to subdue voluptuousness,
to enjoy real liberty, to be always princes, and al-
ways masters of themselves and their own passions ;
the fourth inspired them with courage^ and by teach-
ing them how to command themselves, taught them
how to maintain dominion over others.

We purposely omit the noble and virtuous actions
.of the Assyrians, the Medes, the Greeks, and other
nations, who were the glory of the ages, in which
they lived. But let us not pass by ancient Rome.
Was ever nation more .exalted * ? One expression of
Caesar will give us a just notion of jtheir excellence.
Cicero recommended a friend to him, an3 this was
his answer ; I71 regard to 3Iarciis Furins, luhom you
have recommended to me^ / will make him king of Gaul,
If you have any other friends you wi^h to have promoted^
you may command me f . But by what unheard-of pro-
digy did old Rome, composed at first of no more than
three thousand inhabitants, carry conquest in less than
six hundred years to the ends of the earth ? Thus
speaks the Emperor Julian. By what impenetrable
secret did this confused mixture of vagabonds and
thieves become a seminary of heroism and grandeur ?
By a wise docility, so that even kings sometimes sub-
mitted to the advice of individuals ; witness Tullus
Hqstilius, who durst not decide the case of Horatius,
but referred it to the people | ; by an observation of the
law so strict, that Brutus condemned his two sons to
die by the hands of the public executioner, for having
listened to the ambitious proposals of the Tarquins,
who were conspiring to enslave the citizens and re-
moimt the throne ; by a frugality so great,, that such
men as Curium, Fabricius, Regulus, .^milius, Pau-
lus, and Mummius, these great deliverers of the Ro-
man

* Montagne de la grandeur RomaiDC, liv. ii. chap. 24.
f Cicer. Epist. ad famil. lib. vii. 5. Some copies read not Furius^
^utM. Or fills. See Spanhcim in the Caesars, p. 16'1.
*Xiv. lib, i, 16.

J CO The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity.

man people, were seen to feed their own cattle, to
cultivate their lands, and to live without pomp and
parade ; by an excellent economy, so that Atilius
Regulus, who commanded a Roman army in Africa,
demanded leave of the Senate to go home and pro-
vide for the wants of his family, from whom a day-
labourer had stolen the working-tools used in culti-
vating his estate of seven acres ; a requisition so just
that the Senate engage^i to buy tools to cultivate his
land, and to support his wife and children at the pub-
lic charge*; so far did they carry this virtue, that the
elder Cato, returning from Spain to Italy, sold his
horse to save the charge of freight ; and visually, when
he travelled, carried his own knapsack, which con-
tained all his travelling necessaries ; by an ardent love
for the general good, so that every thing was reserved
for the public ; temples, baths, roads, aqueducts,
triumphal arches, all were superb when the national
glory was in vievv% as all things for the use of indivi-
duals were plain ; by an utter aversion to useless bra-
very, so that they considered in a light equally mean
the general who exposed his person needlessly, and
him who avoided danger when the public good
rendered it necessary for him to expose himself f ; by
a scrupulous caution not to undertake unjust v/ars ; to
guard against v/hich they had a college at Rome,
where it was cooly examined whether an intended
war were just or unjust, before it was proposed to the
senate and the people;; by an insurmountable aversion
to every species of military fraud, so that Lucius Mar-
cius (my brethren, how ought this idea of Pagan
heroes to cover some with confusion, who ostenta-
tiously affect to play the hero in the christian world !)
Lucius Marcius, I say, having deceived Perses, king
of Macedonia, by giving him false hopes of peace, and

having

* Liv. Epitom. liv. 18. Montagne de la parsimonie des aiw
ciens, liv. i. chap. 52.

t Sallust de bell. Catil. ix.

X CdII. des feciaux. Dion. Halic. lib. ii. Antiq. Rom. liv. i. 32.

The Harmony of Religion and Ciml Polity. * 161

having conquered him by this stratagem, was adjudg-
ed by the senate to have violated the Roman laws,
and to have swerved from the ancient customs, accord-
ing to which it was a maxim to conquer by valour and
not by fraud.

If, having shewn the cause of the prosperity of an-
cient nations, we were to inquire into the reasons of
their decline ; were we to compare the Egyptians
under their wise kings with the Egyptians in a tim.e
of anarchy, the Persians victorious under Cyrus Avith
the Persians enervated by the luxuries of Asia ; tliQ
Romans at liberty under their consuls, with the Ro-
mans enslaved by their emperors, we should find, that
the decline of each of these nations was owing to the
practice of vices opposite to the virtues which hac}
caused its elevation ; we should be obliged to acknow-
ledge, that vain-glory, luxury, voluptuousness, dis-
union, <d\iYj, and boundless ambition, were the hateful
means of subverting states, which in the height of
their prosperity expected, and in all appearance justly
expected, to endure to the end of time ; we should be
obliged to allow, that some excesses, which in certain
circumstances had contributed to exalt these nations^
were in other circumstances the means of ruinin^^'
lliem.

True, ambition impelled Csesar to elevate the re-
public of Rome to a pitch as high as it is possible for
himian grandeur to attain. Armed for the defence
of the republic, he fought for it, though less for
it than for his own glory, and displayed, we grant,
the Roman* eagle in the farthest parts of Asia, ren-
dered Gaul tributary, swelled the Rhine with German
blood, subdued the Britons, and made all the Adriatic
coasts resound the fame of his victories. But did
not the same ambition impel him to excite a civil war.
to arm Rome against Rome, to cover the Pharsaliau
iield w^ith carnage, and soak the ground with Roman

yoL. IV. ,. h bloo4

i62 TheHarmon;ii of Religion and Civil Polity.

blood, to pursue the shattered remains of Pompey*s
army into the heart of Africa, to give a queen, or
rather a prostitute, the kingdom of Egypt, to reduce
the first and most free of all nations to a state of mean7
ness and servility beneath the most abject of mankind ?
For, my brethren, what were these Romans after they
had lost their liberty, and given themselves up to ab-
solute masters ? These Romans, who had given the
universe law ; these Roman citizens, even the meanest
of them, who would have thought themselves dis-
graced had they mixed their blood with that of kings ;
these Romans, once so jealous of their liberty, have
we not seen these very people, under their emperors,
submit to vassalage so as to become a scandal even to
slaves ? Infamous flatterers, did not they erect altars
to Claudius, Caligula, and Nero ? Did not Rome
hear one of its citizens address this language to the
last of these monsters ? Choose, Ccesar, what place you
will among the immortal gods. Will you sway the
sceptre of Jupiter, or mount the chariot of Apollo t
There is not a deity who will not yield his empire toyou^
and count it an honour to resign in your favour *.

But is it necessary to quote ancient history in proof
of what we have advanced, that is, that the same
vices which contribute at first to exalt a nation, in the
end cause its decline and ruin ? There is a nation f ,
in favour of which all things seem to promise a gene-
ral and lasting prosperity. It has an advantageous si-
tuation, a fruitful soil, a temperate climate, an agree-
able society, an easy access, a mutual generosity, an
inimitable industry, quick penetration in council, he-
roical courage in war, incredible success in trade, siu--
prising dexterity in arts, indisputable reputation in
sciences, an amiable toleration in religion, severity
blended with sweetness, sweetness tempered with se-
verity.

Does

f Lucan. Pharsal. Ub. i. t This sernioa was preached in I706,

The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity, 168

Does this nation pass the bounds? At first it acquires
advantages more than nature and art had given it
The boundless ambition of the monarch inspires the ,
subject with a noble pride. Authority, established by
despotical power, enslaves the judgments of all to the
will of one. A treacherous policy at first imposes on
neighbouring states. Troops, impelled by a rash va/-
lour, at first surmount all obstacles. Toleration is ba-
nished, the prince takes the place of God himself, and
exercises his prerogative. Violating the faith of edicts
procures some present advantages. An insatiable avi-
dity adds fortress to fortress, city to city, province to
province, kingdom to kingdom. But where is divine
providence ? Where is the truth of our text, righteous^
ness exalteth a nation ? What pitch of grandeur can
religion obtain for a people, which cannot be obtained
by other means ?

Stop. The objection made to our doctrine demon* ^
strates the truth- of it. The ambition of the monarch,
communicated to his subjects, will there produce all
the fatal effects of ambition. Despotical power, which
enslaved the judgments of all to the absolute will of
one, will cause the judgments of all to resist the will
of one. That deceitful policy, which took neighbourt-
ing states by surprise, will inspire them with distrust
and precaution. Troops hurried on by rashness will
find out that rashness is the high road to defeat. To-
leration disallowed v/ill affect the hearts of faithful
subjects, and industry will flee to foreign climes. The
violation of edicts will destroy confidence in all the
public instruments of government. An insatiable
avidity of territorial acquisitions, of possessing forts,
cities, provinces, and kingdoms, without number,
will require more attention, and greater expence
than any nation can furnish. A state in this condition
will sink under the weight of its own grancleur, it
will be attenuated by being expanded ; and, if I may

2 use

i B4f The Harmonv ofBeligion and Civil Polity^

use such an expression, impoverished by its abundance.
Each passion put in motion will give a shock peculiar
to itself^ and all together will unite in one general
])low, fatal to the edifice which they had erected. A
pr«ice, by becoming an object of the admiration of the
world, becomes at the same time an object of jealousy,
suspicion, and terror. Hence come civil commotions
and foreign wars. He)ice the forming of leagues and
dee])-concertGd plots. Hence mortality, scarcity, and
famine. Hence heaven and earth in concert against a
state that seemed to defy both earth and heaven.
Hence an eternal exam})le to justify providence in all
iiiture ages, and to demonstrate to the most obstinate
the doctrine of the text, that only rectitude can pro-
cure substantial glory.

Thus, ^xc think, we have sufficiently established our
prophet's proposition : and we will finish the argu*
ments by which we have supported it, by giving
you the character of that author who hath taken the
greatiSst pains to subvert it.* He was one of those in-
(^onsistent men, whom the finest genius cannot pre-
serve from self-contradiction, and whose opposite qua-
lities ^\ ill ahvays leave us in doubt v.^hether to place
them in one extreme, or in another diametrically op-
posite. On the one hand, he wai* a great philosopher,
and knew how to distinguish truth from falsehood, for
he could see at once a connection of principles, an4 a
train of consequences : on the other hand, he was a
great so'phister, always endeavouring to confound
truth with. falsehood, to wrest princii)les, and to force
consequences, la one view, admirably learned and
of fine parts, having profited much by the labours of
Qthers, and more by the exercise of his own great
sense: in another view, ignorant, or afiecting to be
ignorant of the most common things, advancing arg^i-
hicnts vvliicli had been a thousand times refuted, and
"■ • , starting

* Mr Bavle,

The Harmony of Religion and Civ il PolUij. 1 65

starting objections which the greatest novice in the
schools durst not have mentioned with£)ut bkishing.
On the one hand, attacking the greatest men, opening
a wide field for them to labour in, leading tlieni intc>
devious and rugged paths, and, if not going beyond
them, giving them a w orld of pains to keep pace with
him : on the other hand, quoting the meanest geniuses^
offering a profusion of incense to them, blotting his
writings with names that had never been pronounced
by learned lips. On the one hand, free, at least in
appearance, from every disposition contrar'y to the
spirit of the gospel, chaste in his manners, grave in
his conversation, temperate in his diet, and austere ii>
his usual course of life ; on the other, employing all
the acuteness of his genius to oppose good inorals, and
to attack chastity, modesty, and all other christian
virtues. Sometimes appealing to a tribunal of the
most rigid orthodoxy, deriving arguments from the
purest sources, and quoting divines of the most un-
suspected soundness in the faith : at other times, tra-
velling in the high road of heretics, reviving the
objections of ancient heresiarchs, forging them nev/
armour, and uniting in one body the errors of past
ages with those of the present time. O that this man*
who was endowed with so many talents, may have been
forgiven by God for the bad use he made of them!
May that Jesus, whom he so often attacked, have ex-
piated his crimes ! But, though charity constrains us
to hope and w^ish for his salvation, the honour of our
holy religion obliges us publicly to declare that he
^usedhisownunderstanding; to protest, before heaven
and earth, that we disown him as a memljer of our re-
formed churches, and that we shall always consider a
part of his writings as a scandal to good men> and a^
a pest of the church.

We return to our prophet. Let us employ a few
moments in reflecting on the truths we have heard*
Thanks be to God, my brethren^ we have better means

166 The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity^

of knowing the righieovs7iess that exalts a nation, and
more motives to practise it, than all the nations of
whose glory we have been hearing. They had only
A superficial, debased, confused knowledge of the vir-
tues which constitute substantial grandeur ; and, as
they held errors in religion, they must necessarily havi^
erred in civil polity. God, glory be to his name ! hath
placed at the head of our councils the most perfect le-
gislator that ever held the reins of government in the
world. This legislator is Jesus Christ. His kingdom,
indeed, is not of this world ; but the rules he has
given us to arrive at that, are proper to render us hap-
py in the present state. When he says, " Seek ye first
the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all
other things shall be added to you," Matt. vi. SS, he
gives the command, and makes the promise to whole
nations as well as to individuals.

Who ever carried so far as this divine legislator idea^
of the virtues of which we have been treating in se«
veral parts of this discourse, and by practising which
iiaiions are exalted. Who ever formed such just notions
of that benevolence, that love of social good, that ge-
nerosity to enemies, that contempt of life, that wisdom,
that veneration for noble exploits, that docility and
frugalit}^ that devotedness to public use, that distance
from false glory, that magnanimity, and all the other
virtues which render antiquity venerable to us ? Who
ever gave such wise instruction to kings and subject^
magistrates and people, lawyers and merchants, sol-
diers and statesmen, the world and tlie church ? W4i
know these virtues better than any other people in the
world. We are able to cariy our glory far beyond
Egyptians and Persians, Assyrians and Medes, Lace«
demonians, Athenians, and Romans ; if not that sort
of glory which glares and dazzles, at least that which
makes tranquil and happy, and procures a felicity far
more agreeable than all the pageantry of heroism and
worldly splendour^

Gliri6tians<

The Harmon^/ of Religion and Civil Polity, 167

Christians, let not these be mere speculations to us.
Let us endeavour to reduce them to practice. Never
let us suffer our political principles to clash with the
•principles of our religion. Far from us, and far from
us for ever be the abominable maxims of that perni-
cious Florentine,* who gave statesmen such fatal les-
sons as these : A prince who would maintain his dig
liity, ought to learn not to be virtuous, when affairs of
state require him to practise vice ; he ought to be fru-
gal with his own private fortune, and liberal with
public money ; he ought never to keep his word to
his own disadvantage ; he ought hot so much to aspire
at virtue as at the semblance of it; he ought to be
apparently merciful, faithful, sincere, and religious^
but really the direct opposite ; that he cannot possibly
practice what are accounted virtues in other men,
because necessity of state will often oblige him to
act contrary to charity, humanity, and religion ; he
ought to yield to the various changes of fortune, to
do right as often as he can, but not to. scruple doing
wrong when need requires. I say again, far from us
be these abominable maxims ! Let us obey the pre-
cepts of Jesus Christ, and by so doing let us draw
down blessings on this nation more pure and perfect
than those which we now enjoy.

The blessings we nov/ enjoy, and which providence
bestowed on us so abundantly a few days ago,f should
inspire us with lastinggratitude ; however, my brethren,
they are not, they ought not to be the full accom-
plishment of our wishes. Such laurels as we aspire
at are not gathered in fields of battle. The path to
that eminence to which we travel, is not covered with
human gore. The acclamations we love are not ex-
tited by wars and rumours of wars, the clangour of
^rmsj and the shouting of armed men.

Were

'* Machiavel. Prince, xv. xvi. xvii.
t At the battle of Ramilies^ Mav 2S, .1706^-

168 The Harmony ofHeUgion and Civil Politij\\

Were our pleasure, though not of the purest sort,
perfect in its own kind, we should experience a rise iri
happiness ! But can we enjoy our victories without
mourning' for the miseries which procured them ! Our
triumphs indeed abase and confound our enemies, and
make them lick the dust; yet these very triumphs
present one dark side to us. Witness the many wounds
which I should make a point of not opening, were it
not a relief to mourners to hear of their sufferings,
tvere it not equitable to declaj'e to those whose sor-
rows have procured our joy, that we remember them,
that we are concerned for them, that we sympathize
^vith them, that we are not so taken up with public
joy as to forget private woe. Witness, I say, so many
tiesolate houses among us. Witness this mourning in
wliich so many of us a})pear to-day. Witness these
affectionate Josephs, who lament the death of their
parents. Witness these Marys and Marthas weeping
at the tomb of Lazarus. Witness these distressed
Davids, 'who weep as they go, and Exclaim, " O Absa-
lom liiYsori ! mv son Absalom ! would God I had died
for fliee r O Absolom my son, my son !" 2 Sam. xviii.
riS. ' Witness these Rachels, who make Rama echo
with their cries, " refusing to be comforted, because
their children are not," Jer. xxxi. 15.

My dear brethren, on w^hom the Imnd of God is
hf avy, ye sorrowful Naomis, ye melancholy Maras,
with whom the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly,
Ruth i. 20. we share your griefs, we mix our tears with
yours, we feel all the blows that strike you. O fatal
victory ! O bloody . glory ! you are not fruits of
righteousness.

Christians, if our joy be mixed, it is because our
righteousness is mixed. Let us not search for our
misfortunes in any other^ cause. Let us do, when
any thing is wanthig to complete our joy, what the
ancient people of God did, whenever they were con-
quered.

The Tlarmony of Religion and Civil Polifij. 1 69

qiiered. The congregation was assembled, the ephod
was put on, the oracle was consulted, inquisition was
made I'rom tribe to tribe, trom family to family, from
liouse. to house, from person to person, who it was,
whose sin had caused the loss of the victory, or tlu:
loss of a "regiment; and Arhen he was discovered, he
was put to death. Joshua, after he had met with a
repulse before Ai, and had lost thirty-six- men, rent
his garments, and lay on his face upon the earth, be-
fore the ark of the l^ofd. In like manner, let us,
my brethren, at the remembrance of infected countries,
fields of battle covered with carcases, rivers of blood
dying the soil, confused heaps of dead and dyin^;'
fellow-creatures, new globes of fire flying in the air,
let us examine ourselves. Happy if, as in the case
just now mentioned, only one criminal could be found
among' many thousands of innocent persons! Alas I
we are obliged, on the contrary, to lament, tha,t
there is hardly one innocent among thousands of the
guilty.

Where is the Achan who embitters the glorious and
immortal victories which God grants to Israel ? What
tribe, what family, wliat house shall be taken ? Is it
the magistrate ? Is it the people ? Is it the pastor ?
Is it the flock ? Is it the merchant ? Is it the soldier ?
Ah ! my brethren ! do you not hear the oracle of the
Lord answering from the terrible tribunal erected in
your own consciences ? It is the magistrate ; it is the
people ; it is the pastor ; it is the flock ; it is the mer-
ciiant ; it is the soldier.

It is that magistrate, who, being required to have
always before his eyes that God by whom kings reign,
and that fhrone before which the greatest mpnarchs
of the world must be judged, is dazzled with his own
grandeur, governed by a worldly policy, and hath
more ;at liejirt to enforce the observation of his own
capricious orders than those rules of eternal rectitude
wkicji secure the safety and happiness of a nation.

It

no The Harmony of Religion and Civil Polittf^

It is that people who, instead of considering the fe*
licity of that nation whose God is the Lord, are attempt-
ing to be happy independently of God ; choosing ra-
ther to sacrifice to blind chance than to him, who is
the happy God^ and who alone dispenses piX)speroug
and adverse circumstances.

It is that viinister who, instead of confining his at-
tention to the discharge of all the duties of his office,
perfoniis only such parts as acquire him a popular re-
putation, neglecting private duties, such as friendly
and affectionate remonstrances, paternal advice, private
charities, secret visits, which characterise the true mi-
nisters of the gospel.

It is that congregation w^hich, instead of regarding
tlie word dispensed by us as the word of God, licen-
tiously turns all public ministrations into ridicule, and
under pretence of ingenuity and freedom of thought,
encourages infidelity and irreligion ; or, at best, ima-
gines that religion consists more in hearing and know-
ing than in practice and obedience.

It is that soldier who, though he is always at war
with death, marching through fires and flames, hear-
ing nothing but the sound of warlike instruments cry-
ing to him with a loud voice, Remember, you must die^
yet frames a morality of his own, and imagines that
his profession, so proper in itself to incline him to obey
the maxims of the gospel, serves to free him from all
obligation to obedience.

Ah ! this it is, which obscures our brightest tri-
umphs ; this stains our laurels with blood ; this ex-
cites lamentations, and mixes them with our songs
of praise. Let. us scatter these dark clouds. Let
us purify our righteousness in order to purify our
happiness. Let religion be the bridle, the rule, the
soul of all our councils, and so may it procure us
unalterable peace, and unmixed pleasure ! or rather^
>as there is n© such pleasure on earth, as imperfection

2'he Harmony of Religion and Civil Polity, 171

Is a character essential to human affairs, let us ele-
vate our hearts and minds to nobler objects, let us
sigh after happier periods, and let each of us seek
true glory in the enjoyment of God. God grant us
this grace ! To him be honour and glory for ever..
Amen.

BEKMON

SERMON VII.

The Lives of Courtiers.

2 Samuel xix. 32 — 39.

Barzillaiwas a very agedman^ even fourscore years old,
and he had provided the king of sustenance while he
lay at Mahandim : for he was a very great man.
And the king said unto Barziliai, Come thou over ivith
me, and I will feed thee with me in Jerusalem. And
Bai'zillai said unto the king. How long have I to live,
thai I should go up with the king unto Jerusalem ?
I am this day fourscore years old ; and can I discern
l)etiveen good and evil ? can thy servant taste what I
eat, or what I drink ?. can I hear any more the voice
of singing men and si?igi?ig women ? luherefore then
shoidd thy servant he yet a burden iinto my lord the
king ? Thy servant will go a little tuay over Jordan
with the king ; and why shoidd the king recompense
it me with such a reward ? Let thy servant, I pray
tliee, turn haxk again, that I may die in mine own
cv :, and he hurled by the grave of my father and of
my mother ; but behold thy servant Chimham, let him
go over with my lord the king, and do to him what
shall seem good unto thee. And the king answred,
Chimham shall go over with me, and I will do • v hin\
thai which shaU seem good unto thee ; and whatsoever

thou

1 74> The Lives of Courtiers,

thou shalt reqidre of me thai will I do for thee. And
all the people went over Jordan ; and when the Mug
was come over, the king kissed Barzillai, and blessed
him ; and he returned unto his own place,

Xl/'E propose to examine to-day, my brethren, how-
far business, the world, a court, are fit for a
young man, and how far they agree with a man in
the decline of life. It is a prejudice too common in
the world, that there are two w^ays to heaven, one way
ibr young men, and another way for men in years.
Youth is considered as a sort of title to licentiousness,
and the most criminal pleasures. Virtue is usually
regarded as proper for those who cannot practise
vice with a good grace. God forbid such a perni-
cious maxim should be countenanced in this pulpit !
Let us not deceive ourselves, my brethren, the pre*-
cepts of the moral law^ are eternal, and fitted to all
ages of life. At fifteen, at twenty, at thirty, at forty,
at fourscore years of age, what the apostle affirms is
true, *• they that do such things shall not inherit the
)i:ingdom of God," Gal. v. 21. These things are
" adultery, fornication, uncleanness,lasciviousness, ido-
latry, w^itchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath,
strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunken-
iigss, revellings, and such like." There is no dispen-
sation in these cases on account of age. At any age
*• they that do such things, shall not inherit the king
dom of God."

It is, how^evcr, clear, that circumstances sometimes
change the nature of moral actions ; that an action
is innocent, when done in some circumstances, which
ceaseth to be so w^hen it is done in difterent circumr
stances ; and, to come to the design mentioned at the
beginning of this discourse, it is clear, that business,
the world, a court, to a certain degree, suit a young
man, and that they are unfit for a man in the decline
of life.

Each part of this proposition, my brethren, is

contained

The Lives of Courtiers, 175

-contained in the text, as we are going to shew you*
Barzillai, by committing his son to king David, and
by allowing Chimham to avail himself of the favour of
his prince, teacheth us how far business, the world,
and a court become a young man. Barzillai, by wish-
ing only to retreat into retirement and silence himself,
teacheth us how far a court, the world, and business
become an old man ; or rather, he teacheth us, that
they do not become him at all, and that there is a
certain time of life when the wise man takes leave of
the world.

I. We suppose Barzillai was a good man, and that
his example sufficiently proves it. Indeed this man is
very little known. I recollect only three places in
scripture where he is spoken of. The first is in the
seventeenth chapter of the second book of Samuel.
There we are told, that Barzillai " was of the tribe of
Gilead, of the city of Rogelim," ver. 27. and that he
was one of those who brought refreshments to David
and his court, when he fled from his barbarous son.
This passage tells us how he became so dear to David.
The second is our text. The third is in the first book
of Kings, where David gives this commission to his
son Solomon. " Shew kindness unto the sons of Bar-
zillai the Gileadite, and let them be of those that eat
at thy table ; for so they came to me when I fled be-
cause of Absalom thy brother," ch. ii. 7. This passage
gives us reason to conjecture, or rather it proves, that
Chimham was the son of Barzillai ; for the commission
given by David, when he was dying, to Solomon, cer^
tainly refers to these words of our text, " Behold thy
servant Chimham, let him go overwith my lord theking,
and do to him what shall seem good unto thee." Thus,
all we know of Barzillai contributes to persuade us
that he was a good man ; that his example sufficiently
proves it ; that as he consented that his son should
go into the world> and even into the most pompous

and

1*J6 The Lives of Courtiers,

and dangerous part of it, he thought it might be in- ^
nocently done. A good father would not have con-
sented that his son should enter on a course of !life
criminal in itself. If we have deceived ourselves^ in
oiu' notion of Barzillai, it will not affect the nature of
our reflections. Our question is this, How far does
the world, a court, or business become a young man ?
We shall elucidate this question by the following con-
siderations : 1 . A wise man will never choose a court,
oi' high offices, as iiiost and best fitted to procure true
jyeace. He must be a novice in the world indeed who
doth not know the solidity of this maxim. He must
have reflected very little on the turbulent condition
of courtiers, and of all such as are elevated to any
superior rank in the world. He must have paid very
little attention to the snares which are every where
set to disturb their tranquillity; to the envies and
jealousies which are excited against them ; to the
plots which are formed against their happiness ; to
the reverses of fortune to which they are exposed ;
to the treachery of such friends as surround them, and
to the endless vicissitudes which they experience. In
general, a man must be indifferent to peace, at least
he must know but little in what it consists, to seek it
in pomp and worldly grandeur. I forgive a young
man of fifteen or twenty for making such a mistake.
At that time of life, young men deserve pity ; their
eyes are too childish not to be dazzled by a false glare ;
t4iey have not then learnt to know appearances from
realities by their ov, n experience, or by the experience
of others. They do ijot then know that happiness
consists in a private condition, a moderate revenue, a
few tried friends, a chosen circle, a few relations, bu-
siness enough to preserve vigour of mind without
fatiguing it, a wisely directed solitude, moderate stu-
dies, in a word, in a happy mediocrity. My brethren,
independence is the blessing which deserves to be
first of ?dl chosen by us, should God leave to our

choice

The Lives of Courtiers. 177

choice the kind of life which we ought to follow ; or
if he did not frequently intend by placing- us on earth
more to exercise our patience than to consummate
our felicity. O delicious independence, O inestimable
mediocrity ! I prefer you before the most glorious
sceptre, the best established throne, the most brilliant
crown ! What are those eminent posts of which the
greatest part of mankind are so fond? They are golden
chains, splendid punishments, brilliant prisons and
dungeons. Happy he, who, having received from pro-
vidence blessings sufficient for his rank, easy with his
fortune, far from courts and grandeurs, waits with
tranquillity for death ; and, while he enjoys the inno-
cent pleasures of life, knows how to make eternity his
grand study, and his principal occupation.

2. A wise man will always consider a court, and
eminent posts, as dangerous to his salvation. It is in
a court, it is in eminent posts, that, generally speaking,
the most dangerous snares are set for conscience. Here
it is that men usually abandon themselves to their
passions, because here it is that they are gratified witli
the utmost ease. Here it is that man is tempted to
Consider himself as a being of a particular kind, and
infinitely superior to those who crawl among the vul-?
gar. It is here where each learns to play the tyrant
in his turn, and where the courtier indemnifies him-
self for the slavish mortifications to which his prince
reduces him, by enslaving all his dependents. Here
it is that secret intrigues, underhand practices,
bloody designs, dark and criminal plots are formed^
of Avhich innocence is usually the victim. Here it is
that the most pernicious maxims are in the greatest
credit, and the most scandalous examples in the
highest reputation. Here it is that every disposition
of mind changes, if not its nature, at least its appear-
ance, by the false colouring with which all are dis-
g'uised. Here it is that every one breathes the venom
€»f flattery, and that every one loves to receive it. Here

VOL. IV. M imagination

iVS The Lives of Courtiers.

iinagination prostrates itself before frivolous deities?,
and unworthy idols receive such supreme homage as is
due to none but the sovereign God. Here it is that
the soul is affected with many a seducing image, the
troublesome remembrance of which often wholly en-
grosses the mind, especially when we wish to nourish
it with such meditations as are suited to immortal in^-
telligences. Here a confused noise, an infallible con-
sequence of living in the tumult of the world, gets
possession of the mind, and ren(fers it extremely dif*
iicult to relish that silent retirement, that abstraction
of thought, which are absolutely necessary to self-exa-
mination, and to the study of our own hearts. Here
it is that men are carried away k^ spite of themselves
by a torrent of vicious examples, which, being thought,
and called by every body about them illustrious, autho-
rise the most criminal actions, and insensibly destroy
that tenderness of conscience and dread of sin which
are very powerful motives to keep us in tlie practice
of virtue. These general maxims admit of some ex-
ception in regard to Chimham, He saw,- in the per-
son of his king, the virtues of a pastor, and the excel-
lence of a prophet* David's court was an' advan^
tageous school for him on many accounts ; but yet was
it altogether exempt from all the danger^ We have
mentioi'ied ? O Chimham, Chimham, I will not detain
thee in the port, wiien providence calls thee to set sail !
But that sea, with the dangers of which thou art go-
ing to engage, hath many, many rocks, and among
them, alas ! there have been innumerable shipwrecks.
S. A wise man will never enter a court, or accept of
an eminent' post, without fixed resolutions to surmount
the temptations with which they are acci!)mpanied, and
without using proper measures to succeed in his de-
sign. Ear from us for ever be, my brethren, that dis-*
position of mind, which, by fixing the eye upon the
prince, makes us lose sight of him " by whom kings
reign, £ind princes decree justice !" Prov. viii. 15, Ear

from

The Lives of Courtiers-, 17^

from us be such an avidity to make our fortunes as to
fengage us to forget that we have souls to save, and aa
eternal interest to pursue ! Far from us be that desire
of "Elevating ourselves in this worlds which debaseth the
dignity of our natute, and inclines us to practices un-
worthy of men whom the God of heaven and earth
hath called into his family ! Those holy men who are
proposed to us for examples^ have been sometimes at
court, and they have sometimes exercised the highest
offices of state, but they have always made it an invio-
lable law to set before their eyes that God, in the pre^
sence of whom " all nations are a drop of a bucket,
and as the small dust of the balance," Isa. xl. 15*
Moses was at court; but it was with that heroical
firmness, with that noble pride, with that magnanimity^
which became him whom the Lord of hosts had chosen
for his messenger, and placed at the head of his people*
Moses was at court ; but it was to say to Pharaoh,
** Let my people go that they may serve rne. Let my
people go. And if thou refuse to let them go^ behold,
I will smite all thy borders with frogs. They shall
come into thine house, and into thy bed-chamber, and
upon thy bed, and into the housie of thy servants. Let
my people go, or the hand of the Lord shall be upon
thy cattle, upon thy horses, upon the asses, upon the
camels, upon the oxen, and upon the sheep, and there
shall be a very grievous murrain," Exod; vii. 16. viii.
2. and ix. 3. Nathan was at court ; but it was to say
to David, " Thou art the man ; wherefore hast thou
despised the commandment of the Lord to do evil in
his sight ?" 2 Sam. xii. 7, 9. Elijah was at court ; but
it was to resist Ahab, who said to him, " Art thou he
that troubleth Israel ?" No, replied he, " I have not
troubled Israel, but thou and thy father's house, in that
ye have forsaken the cofnmandments of the Lord, and
thou hast followed Baalim," I Kings xviii. 17, 18; Mi-
caiah was at court ; but it was to resist the projects of
an ambitious prince, and to say to him, *' I saw aH
Israel scattered upon the hills, as sheep that have Hot

2 a shepherd/',

ISO The Lives of Courtier $.-

' a shepherd," chap. xxii. II. Jehu was at court ; but it;
was to mortify Joram, who asked him, Is it peace ?
** What peace," replied he, '^ What peace, so long as*
the whoredoms of thy mother Jezebel, and her witch-
crafts are sO manj^ ?" 2 Kings ix. 22. John the Bajf-
tist was at court ; but he went thither to tell Herod,
** It is not.lawfuf for thee ta have thy brother's wife,"
Msrkvi.18.

Some of these holy men have filled the highest posts,
and jdischarged the most important offices of state ;
but they have done so with that integrity of mind, and
with that piety and fervour of heart, which would seem
incompatible with worldly grandeur, were we not in-
formed, that to the pure all things are pure, and that
God knows how to preserve the piety of his elect
amidst the greatest dartgers, when zeal for his glorj*^
engageth them to expose themselves for his sake,
Samuel discharged important offices, he occupied an-
eminent post ; but he could render a faithful account
of his administration, and ventured to face the people
ydth this noble appeal, " Behold, here I am, witness
against me before the Lord, and before his annointed ^
>vhose ox have I taken ? or whose ass have I taken ?
or Avhom have I defrauded ? whom have I oppressed ?'^
1 Sam. xii.3, 4. And what is more than all this, and what
we wish to inculcate more than all this, is wh^t hcf
subjoins, " of whose hand ha>ve I received any bribe to-
blind mine eyes therewith ? and I will restore it you."
To which the people replied, " Thou hast not de*
frauded us, nor oppressed us, neither hast thou taken
ought of any man's hand." Nehemiah was elevated
to high offices, he was even a favourite of the kilng ;
fcut he availed himself of his elevation to procure the
rebuilding of Jerusalem, and the restitution of divine
worship in the temple. When the idolatrous prince
put this question to him, Why is thy countenance sad ?
Me replied, " Why should not my countenance be sad,
when the city, the place of my father's sepulchres, lieth
waste, and tlic gates thereof are consumed with fire ?"'

Nehem.

(The L ives of Co urtiers, 181

Neli^m. ii. 2, 3. Daniel filled a high office, even in
an idolatrous court ; but there he continued his humble
diet ; he would not hold his office at the expence of his
conscience ; amidst the tumult of the world he kncAsr'
how to manage his affairs so as to find time to linder^
stand by books the mnnber of the years predicted by the
prophets, to attend to the condition of Jerusalem, to
make supplication wiihfasting, and sackcloth y arid ashes.
Is there any one of you, my brethren, so much master
of himself? Have you courage enough to resist sq
many enemies ? Are you able to withstand so many
temptations, and to escape all these dangers ? Go then,
not only to the courts of I>avids, but to those of the
most profligate princes. Go^ shine as lights in the ?nidst
of a crooked and perverse nation ; go, be the salt of the
earth ; rise, not only to the great offices of state, but
ascend a throne, take the government and reign.

4. The evils which embitter the lives of courtiers,
and of all who are elevated to eminent posts, and (what
may seem a paradox), the hazard of being damned
among human grandeurs, ought not to discourage those
from occupying the highest offices who are capable of
doing great good to society and the church.

The first part of this proposition is indisputable,.
The difficulties w^hieh belong to the lives of cour-
tiers, and of all persons elevated to eminent posts,
ought not to discourage those who are abls to benefit
society and the church. It is clear, I tjiink, to all
who know the first principles of Christianity, that the
design of God in placing us in the world was not to
enable us to follow that kind of life which is the
most conformable to our inclinations, though such a
kind of life should have nothing, in it contrary to
the laws of God. God intended to exercise us in a
painful state of probation. I allow, virtue lias
charms of its own, and often brings its reward along
with it in this world ; but also it often requires us to
mortify our dearest passions, and oj.ir strongest incli-

nati9ns,

IS2 The Lives of Courtier^.

nations. How often, by the heavy afflictions in which
piety involves us, is that celebrated expression of an
0-postle verified, " If in this life only v/e have hope in
Christ, we are of all men most miserable," 1 Cor.xv. 19.
A g'ood man will consult, when he is choosing a course
of life, (and you will have spent this hour well, my
brethren, if you retain only this maxim, and reduce it
to practice) A good man, when he is choosing a course
of life, will consult not what will render his family most
illustrious, not what will be most likely to transmit
his name to posterity, not what will most advance his
fortune, and will best gratify his own inclinations, but
what will be most useful to society and religion. Do
not say the pleasures of a court are insipid, the life of
a courtier is intolerable, perpetual consultations are
burdensome, a multitude of business is tiresome ; ce-
remonies disgust me, splendid titles give me pain ; I
like a tranquil life, I prefer obscurity and quiet, I
love to cultivate my garden, and to spend much of
my tifiie hr reading and retirement. Noble effort of
devotion, indeed ! to choose temporal tranquillity as the
chief end of your studies and actions ! And, pray,
what benefit do religion and the state derive from your
reading your books and cultivating your flowers?
What! is it a question between God and you, whe-
ther the course of life that he prescribes to you be
disagreeable to you, whether perpetual consultations
he troublesome, whether much business fatigues,
whether ceremonies disgust, and whether titles be
unsatisfying to you ? Is this the dispute between God
and you ? Is the question what kind of life you prefer ?
Do you suppose, if God had left to the martyrs the
choice of what course they would have taken through
life, they Would have chosen that to which God called
them ? Would they have preferred, before every other
path, that in which they were " stoned, sawn asunder,
ttempted, slain with the Sword;" Avould they have
'■' wandered about in sheep-skins, and goat-skins, desti-
tute^

The Lives of Courtiers. i8$

tmte, afflicted, and tormented ?" Heb. xi. 37. You say,
you shall become a martyr, if you execute the elevated
office to which you are called. Very well, God calls
you to this martyrdom. The first part of our proposi-
tion is indisputable. The disagreeables in the lives of
courtiers, and of all other persons elevated to eminent
posts, ought not to deter any man from accepting an
office, when it is probable he may, by discharging it
well, do great good to society in general, and to th^
church in particular.

I go further, and I maintain the second part of the
proposition. The snares, which are thick set in high
life, and which endanger our salvation, ought not to
deter us from accepting high offices, when we can do
good tG soeiety and th^ church by executing them.
Ther« is some difficulty in this subject, we will endea-
vour to explain it. Owr principal concern is to be saved.
Our highest engagement is to avoid every thing that
would endanger our salvation. Our first exercise
should be diffidence, distrust of ourselves. The son of
Sirach hath taught us, that he, " who loveth danger
shall perish therein," Ecclus. iii. 26. What law, then,
can oblige us to pursue a course of life, which all as-
sure us is almost impassable to men who would walk in
the way of salvation ? Is it not presumption, is it not
tempting God to expose one's self in this manner ?

I reply, it is presumption, it is a tempting of God,
to expose one's self to danger, when no good will come
of it. For example, you know by experience, that if
gaming were innocent in itself, it is, however, dan-
gerous to you ; that always, when you allow yourself
to game, you receive some injury, you either play
with an avidity of gain too great, or you lose all pa-
tience with the loss of yo\ir money, or, some way
or other, your mind is always disconcerted. Leave
off gaming then. What good do you do to society
at large, or to the church in particular, by your
gaming ? Werx) it probable, that in fixture you

should

i84« The Lives of Coitrtiers.

should always escape unhurt, even a probability pf
suffering is enough to deter you, and you cannot ex-
pose yourself without a presumptuous tempting of
God. Again, you know, by sad experience, that
the company you keep is fatal to you ; that always,
when you are in it, you violate the laws of piety, cha-
rity, and modesty. Quit this company then. What
good is done to the state and the church by your
frequenting this company. Were it probable that
in future you should receive no damage, the bare
probability that you might, ought to induce you to
avoid it. In like manner, you are convinced that your
ppponent, who is, as well as yourself, a candidate for
a certain office, will execute it as well as you would.
The office is dangerous, and you fear you have not
virtue enough to execute it with safety to your salva-
tion. Renounce your pretensions then. Choose a
way of life less dangerous.

Let us go a step further. It is rash, it is tempting
God to expose ourselves to difficulties which cannot
possibly be surmounted. A pretence of doing good
to the state and the church will not alter the case. A
court is pestiferous. A king, who ought to maintain
order, lives only to subvert it ; he consults no law but
his passions, and his will is his only reason. You
niay, perhaps, moderate his passions, if not wholly
regulate them; you may, perhaps, if not wholly ter-
minate the misfortunes of his reign, yet diminish
them. But how must you procure this advantage ?
^ou must rise into an opportunity to do good, by
becoming yourself an instrument of his extortions, by
passing encomiums on his guilty pleasures, by disgra-
cing yourself to become the panegyrist of his tyranny.
In such a case, it would be better to quit the court, to
give up the favour of such a prince, to obey the divine
laws, and to leave the government of the world to
God. It must be granted that, when crimes are ne-^
eessary to public good, it is not you who are appointed

to

The Lives of Courtiers, IB^

commit them, this is not your calling. ^" O my soul,
come not thou into their secret, unto their assembly
jiiine honour be not thou united," Gen. xlix. 6.

But, when temptations are surmountable, when
God offers to assist us to surmount them, when no-
thing but our own idleness can prevent our conquer-
ing, and when we are able, by exposing ourselves to
idanger, to serve society and the church. I affirm,
that we are then called to expose ourselves, and
to meet, resist, and surmount all difficulties. I affirm,
in such a case, it is our duty not to avoid, but to ap-
proach difficulties, and to take pains to surmount them.
A minister of the gospel hath more difficulty in his
way of salvation than a private pei'son. A private
christian, in general, is responsible only for his own
soul ; but a minister of the gospel is accountable for
the souls of all whom God hath committed to his care.
Every part of his office is a source of difficulties and
trials. If he have great abilities, I fear he w ill become
vain ; if he have not, I fear he will envy his superiors.
If he be set in- some conspicuous place, I fear his feeble
eyes will be dazzled with his situation ; if he live in ob-
scurity, I fear he \\ ill sink into indifference. If he be
appointed to speak to the great, I fear he will become
pliant and mean ; if he be confined to people of ordi-
nary rank, I fear he will become indifferent to their
souls, and not take sufficient pains to procure the sal-
vation of them. Snares and temptations every where !
Who is sufficient for these things P But what ! must a
man then bury his talents lest he should abuse them?
No. This is not to choose the way by which it is the
pleasure of God to save us. It dpth not belong to us
\q choose what kind of virtue he shall think fit to ex-
ercise. The duty of a christian is, not to omit the ac-
quisition of knowledge, but to endeavovir not to be
puffed up with it. It is not to avoid conspicuous
places, but to guard against beijig infatuated with
them. It is not to flee from the notice of the great,

but

186 The Lives of Courtiers,

but to watch against servility and meanly cringing in
their presence.

In like manner, you are sure you may be very
useful to religion and society by filling a high office.
You are aware of the intrigues of a court. You are
certain that, if the small number of virtuous men,
who fill high offices, were to retire from public
business, the state would be abandoned to injustice
and oppression, and become the prey of tyrants. You
are one of these vjirtuous characters. You ought then
to fill this post, and the difficulties you meet with can-
not dispense with your obligation. I repeat it again,
it doth not belong to us to choose the way in which it
shall be the pleasure of God to save us. It is not our
business to single out a particular virtue, and insist
on such a course of life as shall exercise it : whether
it be a noisy or a silent path, whether it be a frequent-
ed or a solitary way, whether it be the practice of
public or of private virtue. But, say you, I can-
not help, while I execute this office, my impati-
ence ; I am obliged to give audience to a man who
torments me with tedious and confused harangues in
a course of business ; I wish to eradicate this evil, and
to get rid of this trial of my patience, by quitting my
place. No, do not get rid of this man : do not quit
your place : but take pains with yourself to correct
your impatience : try to cool your blood, and regu-
late your spirits. It is by the way of patience that
God will save you. But I shall not have courage to
plead all alone for rectitude, I shall have the weakness
to sacrifice it, if it should happen at any time not to be
supported by others. I will eradicate this evil, and
avoid the temptation by quitting my employment.
No. Do not quit an employment in which your in-
fluence may be serviceable to the interests of virtue ;
but take pains with your OAvn heart, and subdue it
to the service of rectitude, that you may be able to
plead for virtue witliout a second. But I shall cer-

• tainlv

The Lives of Courtiers. 187

tainly sink under temptation, unless God afford me
extraordinary support. Well, ask for extraordinary
support then ; you have a right to expect it, because
the place you fill renders it necessary for the glory of
God. Let us finish this article, and let us form a
clear notion of what we mean by a calling. That place,
in which it is probable, all things considered, we can
do most good, is the place to which providence calls
us. To fill that is our calling. This establishes our
fourth maxim, that the evils which imbitter the lives
of courtiers, and of all who are elevated to eminent
posts, the danger of perishing by the ills which ac-
company human grandeurs, ought not to deter from
occupying them such persons as have it in their power
to render sicnal services to the state and the church.

Thus we have made a few reflections serving to
determine how far the honours and affairs of a court
suit a young man. Let us proceed to shew that they
are improper for an old man. This is the principal
design of the text. " The king said unto Barzillai,
Come thou over with me, and I will feed thee with me
in Jerusalem. And Barzillai said unto the king. How
long have I to live, that I should go up with the king
unto Jerusalem? I am this day fourscore years old ; and
can I discern between good and evil ? can thy servant
taste what I eat or what I drink? can I hear any more
the voice of singing men and singing women? where-
fore then should thy servant be yet a burden unto my
lord the king. Thy servant will go a little way over
Jordan with the king ; and why should the king recom-
pense it me with such a reward ? Let thy servant, I
pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own^
city, and be buried by the grave of my father and of my
mother." This is the subject of our second part.

Were it proper for me, my brethren, to make a di-
gression from the principal object of our present atten-.
lion, I could not deny myself the pleasure of making an
observation of another kind. Before I spoke of Barzillai,

whQ

18S The Lives' of Courtiers.

who modestly refused human grandeur, I should speak
of the gratitude of David, who, to his praise be it^
spoken, made him the offer. This latter example de^
serves consideration, my brethren, were it only for its
shigularity. Gratitude is very rare among princes; it
is not a virtue at court. Devote yourselves, poor
coui'tiers! I say, devote yourselves sincerely and heartily
to earthly princes, devote to them your rest, your for-
tune, your lives; be lavish of your blood in their service;
for their security and glory expose yourselves in the
most desperate undertakings, attempt the most bloody
sieges and battles ; what will you find princes after all
your services ? Ingrates. Do not expect to meet witli
a David eager to give you substantial proofs of his
gratitude, to say to you, " Come over with me, and I
will feed you v/ith me in Jerusalem ;" to perpetuate his
goodness, to transmit it to your posterity, and to say
to his successor, " Shew kindness imto the sons of
Barzillai, and let them be of those that eat at thy table."
Flow often do partiality and intrigue preyxiil, in the
distribution of royal favours, over reason and equity ?
How often are the children of those, who, with a ge-
nerous courage sacrificed their lives for the public
good, obliged to beg their bread. How often have they
urged in vain the meritorious services of their parents ;
how often have they ivithout success produced blood
yd warm shed for the public safety ? Hovv often have
they m vain demanded that subsistence from charity,
which they had a right to expect from equity ? David,
distinguished among all believers, distinguishes himself
also among all kings. " Come over Jordan with me,"
said he to Barzillai, '- and I will feed you with me in
Jerusalem."

A king thus offering grandeurs from a principle of
gratitude is an uncommon sight. It is, perhaps, a sight
more unusual than that of a man refusing them from a
principle of wise moderation. " How long have I to
live," replies good Barzillai, *' that I should go up witli
the king unto Jerusalem ? J am this day fourscore years
■' •'• '- ■ • old;

The Lives of Courtiers, 189

old ; and can I discern between good and evil ? can thy
servant taste what I eat or what I-drink ? can I hear
any more the voice of singing men and singing women ?
wherefore then should thy servant be yet a burde)% to
ijiy lord the king ? Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn
back again, that I may die in mine own city, and be
buried by the grave of my father and of my mother."
His refusal proceeds from three causes; the insensibility
of old age, the misfortune of old age, and the nearness
of old age to death. " I am fourscore years of age ; can?
I discern between good and evil ? can thy servant taste
what I eat or v,hat I drink ? can I hear any more the
voice of sieging men and singing women ?" This is the
insensibility of old -age, and the first cause of his refusal.

" Why shoiild thy servant be a burden to my lord
the king?" This is the misfortune of old age, and the
second cause of his refusal.

" How long have I to live ? I pray thee let thy ser-^
yant return, and let me die in mine own city, and be
buried by my father and my mother." This is the near-
ness of old age to death, and this is the third cause of hi^i
refusal. These are three sources of many reflections.
•• 1. The insensibility/ of old age is the first cause of the
refusasl of Barzillai. " I am this day fourscore years of
age ; can I discern between good and evil ? can I heai^
any more the voice of singingmen and singing women?"
This insensibility may proceed either from a principle
of wisdom, or from constitution. It may proceed, first,
from wisdom. A man, who hath experienced the
vanity of human grandeur ; a man,, who hath often
asked himself, of what use is this kind of life ? what
good comes of this pomp and pleasure ? a man, w^ho,
by frequently reflecting on ail he sees and hears, hath
formed a just notion of man, and of his real wants ;
a* man, whose reiterated meditations have purified his
taste, and formed in him a habit of employing himself
about things of importance; such a man does not en-
tertain a very high irlea of the privilege of living
with the great, of eating at their tables, and of par->

ticipating

1 90 The Lives of Courtiers,

ticipating" their pleasures. Only such pleasures ki
have God immediately for their object, and eternity
for their end, can always satisfy. Such pleasures are
approved by reasoii, ripened by sige^ and such pleasures
are satisfactory at all times, arid in all stages of lifg.
All other pleasures are fatiguing, and m the end ex-
tremely disgustful. ** Can I hear any more the voice
of singing men and singing women ? \\'hy should the
king recompense me with such a reward ?"

But there is also a constitutional insensibility. The
senses, which transmit pleasures to us, become blunt,
and pleasures are blunted with them. Indeed, we
sometimes see old people, to the shame of human
nature, pretending to rise above the ruins of a decay-
ing body, and trying to support the inconveniencies of
old age by the pleasures of youth. We sometimes sec
men, whose relaxed and trembling hands are too
feeble to hold a box of dice or a hand of cards, sup-
ported by others, and gaming with a part of them-
selves, as they cannot do scr with the whote. We have
seen some, who^ not being able to go thenTs61ves to a
play, have caused themselves to be carried thither^
exposing their extravagance oh a theatre, intended for
the exhibition of other scenes, and so acting a real
tragedy along with a fictitious one. We have seen
some, who having bodies decaying with diseases con-
tracted by youthful passions, or, to use an emphatical
expression of an apostle, having " received within them-'
selves that recompence of their error which was meet,'*
Govered with wounds brought upon themselves by
their debaucheries ; we have seen them trying ta
divert the pain of reflecting on the cause of their de-
cline by the absurd method of gazing still on the very
objects which were first fatal to their innocence, and
by glutting their imaginations, now their senses can
relish no more. We have seen men dedicate the last
moments of life to the god of pleasure, just as they
sacrificed their youth and manhood to the same deity.
We have seen old men, who^ too dim- sighted them-
selves

The Lives of Courtiers. 191

Selves to see the glitter of diamonds and jewels, have
taken a pleasure in exposing the brilliancy of them to
the eyes of others ; who, not having a body to adorn,-
have ornamented a skeleton, and who, lest they shoidd
be taken for dead corpses, have decked themselves
with trinkets fit only for peopli? in the vigour of life.
However, these shameful phenomena do not destroy
our reflection. It is alwHys true, that pleasure loses
its point at a certain age. If the old men, of whom
we have been speaking, yet love pleasure, it is not
taste that tempts them. Like the inhabitants of the
most abominable city that ever disgraced the world,
tliey weary themselves, though they were some timeagor
struck blind, to find the door, the door of Lot, towards
which their brutal passions bad given a direction tor
their bodies, before they lost their sight. They act
thus, because, though musical entertainments no more
delight their ears, J^et they keep them from hearing
the cries of conscience, w hich would rend them asun-
der. They act thus, because, though they have only
a confused sight of the charms of worldly Objects, yet
these objects serve, like a wall, to k^ep out of sight ar
future world, a glimmering of which would eonfound
and distract them. However, the irregularity of the
heart of an old man doth not alter the infirmities of
his body. It is always true, that at a certain time of
life, we acquire a constitutional, organical insensibi-
lity. Isaac, that good old man, arrives at a very ad-
vanced age, but his eyes are become dim, he cannot
distinguish one of his children from another/ he mis-
takes the hands of Jacob for those of Esau, " the voice
is the voice of Jacob, but th^e hands are the hands of
!€sau," Gen. xxvii. 2^. He cannot distinguish venisoa
from goat's flesh. He confers that benediction on the
youngest which he intended for the eldest. If nature
grants to a fev^r of mankind the privilege of a very
long life, the privilege is sold, and a part of the plea^
sure of living must be given for the purchase ; objects
of pleasure must retire, and senses to be pleased with

these

10^ ^he Lives of Courtiers.

these objects riot imfrequently retire first. Before tlii^
earthly house falls by its own frailty, to use an expres-
sion of the wise man, " the j^ears arrive in which we ai*e
obliged to say, we have ho pleasure," Eccl. xii. 1, &g.
Then, according to the description of the same author,
" the sun, the moon, and the stars are darkened, and
the clouds return not after the rain. The keepers of his
house," that is, the hands, " treinble ; his strong men,"
that is, his legs and feet, " bow themselves ; his grin-
ders," that is, his teeth, " cease to perform their func-
tions, because they are few ; those that look out of the
windows," that is, the eyes, " are darketied; the doors,"
that is, the ears, " shall be shut in the streets ; the
daughters of music," that is, the organs of speech,
" shall be brought low ; the almond tree shall flourish,"
tliat is, the head shall become white with age; " the
silver cord," that is, the spinal marrow, " shall be
bro&en ; the grasshopper," that is, the stomach, " shall
be a burden ; the golden bowl," the brain, " shall be
broken; the pitcher," that is, the lungs^ " shall be
broken at the fountain ; and the wheel," the hearty
*■* shall be broken at the cistern." A sad, but natural
description, my brethren, of the infirmities of old age.
A condition veiy unfit for the world and pleasure, for'
business and a court. ** How long have I to live,, that
I should go up with the king unto Jerusalem ? I am
this day fourscore years old, and can I discern between
good and evil? can thy servant taste what. I eat or
what 1 drink ?^ can I hear any more the voice of sing-
ing men and singing women ?"

2. The hitter misf or times of old age are a second reason
of the refiisal of Biirziilai. " Why should thy servant be
:i burden to my lord the king ?" Certainly an old man
ought to be treated with the greatest respect and cau-'
tion. The scripture gives us a precept, which hu-
manity,, to say nothing of religion, should induce us to
obey : *' TJiou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and
iionour/the fcicc of Uie old man J' Lev. xix. 32. What
cxiu -claim our patient attention so much as a man

stooping

The Lives of Courtiers, \ 93

Rtodpiiifi^ under the weight of age and infirmities ?
What duty can be more indispensable than that of
rendering to the infirmities of old age such assistance
as these old people once rendered to the helplessness
of our infancy ? Particularly, what can be more ve-
nerable than an old man, who hath spent his youth
in procuring thOse benefits to society which his old
age now hardly suffers him to enjoy ? What more just
than to respect a soldier grown grey in arms, whose
venerable silv^er head hath been preserved by miracle?
Who more worthy of esteem than an ancient magistrate,
whose life hath been devoted to the felicity of the
state ? What more respectable than an old minister
of the gospel, whose spirits have been exhausted in stu-
dying and preaching the truth ? To people of this
character the words of the wise man belongs " the
hoary head is a crown of glory, being found in the way
of righteousness," Prov, xvi. SI.

Whatever idea Barzillai formed of the equity and
benevolence of David, he did justice to himself. He
Well knew that a man of eighty would be a burden to
this good king. " Why should thy servant be a burden
to my lord the king ?' A man at this time of life too
strikingly exhibits human infirmities to give pleasure
in circles of company, where such mortifying ideas
are either quite forgotten, or slightly remembered.
The tokens of death, which an old man carries about
with him, excite reflections too dismal to contribute
to the pleasure of a company, which endeavours to
sweeten life by innocent recreations, or by others
tvhich concupiscence adds to those of religion. In-
voluntary complaints and sighs but ill accord with
musical instruments and the vocal melody of gay as-
semblies. Pressing infirn\ities, continual fears and
cares, the anticipated dying of a man of fourscore, ill
assort with sumptuous tables. The last years of life,
all heavy, dull, and frozen, disconcert a festival cele-
brated l3y people full of fire, vivacity, and vigour,

VOL. IV. N Barzillai

194 The Lives of Courtiers.

Barzillai felt his frailty, and, though he was fully coii-
vinced that David had a fund of goodness sufficient to
bear with him, yet he would not abuse his politeness.
** How long have 1 to live, that I should go up with
the king to Jerusalem ? Why should the king recom-
pence me with such a reward ? Why should thy ser-
vant be yet a burden to my lord the king ?'*

Wo be to him who hath rendered worldly pleasures
necessary to him in old age. He will not find a Da^
vid every where to offer them to him. Here, my
brethren, I fear sinning against my own principles ;
I fear being accused of wanting such veneration for
the aged as I just now said was their due ; I fear I
shall be taxed with despising the ancient, so worthy
of our attention and regard. However, I must men-
tion a few reflections tending to justify the conduct of
Barzillai, and to unfold the spirit and sense of the
text. I must make these reflections, too, for other
reasons ; in general for the benefit of this whole as-
sembly ; for your sakes, in particular, our aged
hearers, that you may be induced, by the idea of a
world that avoids you, to return to God, who opens
his arms to receive you ; for your sakes, also, young
people, that you may be prevailed on to amass plea-
sures in your youth which will remain with you in
old age. Wo be to him, I say, who renders worldly
pleasures necessary to his old age! Happy, on the con-
trary, he who hath laid up treasure for time to come •
Happy the man who hath prepared for himself plea-
sures for a time w-hen the pleasures of the world are
insipid, and when he himself is intolerable to those
who enjoy them \ Happy he who, instead of pining
after the circles of the gay and the great, hath no
other desire than that of making his court to the
Ring of kings ! Happy he who, instead of attempting
to please himself with the voices of singing men and
si?tgi?tgtvo?rten^ deVighis himself with pious books and
Jiojy meditations ! Happy the man who, when he be-
comes

The Lives of Courtiers, 195

comes a burden to society, knows, like Barzillai, how to
relish the pleasure of retirement and solitude I Happy-
he who, instead of pursuing a fleeing" phantom of feli-
city and glory, knows how to direct his sighs to the
bosom of that God in whom substantial glory and true
felicity dwell, objects which never elude his search !
Happy he whose eyes, however weakened by age, are
hot become too dim-sighted to see the gate of heaven !
Happy the man whose faultering voice and feeble
hands can yet address this prayer to God, and say with
a prophet, " Cast me not off in the time of old age, for-
sake me not when my strength faileth," Psal. Ixxix. 9.

3. In fine, my brethren, Barzillai revolved in his
jmind the nearness of old age to death. This was the
principal cause of his refusal. How long have I to
live ? These words imply a retrospect, how long have
I lived ? and a prospect, how long have I yet to live?
'' I am this day fourscore years old. Let thy servant, I
pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own
city, and be buried by the grave of my father and my
mother.'' This was a very reasonable request, my
brethren, both in regard to the principle laid down,
and the consequence derived from it. The principle
is, that there is very little distance between old age
and death. So little, that the good old man thought
that there was but just time enough for him to pass
over Jordan with the king, to return back, and to pre-
pare for his funeral. " How long have I to live ? I
am this day fourscore years old. Let thy servant, I
pray thee, turn back again, that I may die in mine own
city, and be buried by the grave of my father and my
mother." Was ever principle better founded? How
little is necessary to overset and break the frame of a
man of this age ? What is necessary ? A vapour ! a
puff of wind !

Let us pause here a moment, my brethren, and let
us not behold this spectacle without reflecting on the
vanity of this life. A life of fourscore years appears

2 " to

196 The Lives of Covrticrs.

tome a most abundant source of reflections on human
frailty. True it is, that diseases which consume us,
sudden deaths, which cry to us, children of men, return,
and which cut off numbers before they have lived half
their days, fires, shipwrecks, assassinations, epidemical
diseases, all these are very proper to teach us what a
little account we ought to make of the present life.
But, how frequently soever these sad accidents happen,
we generally take care to harden oui^selves against any
apprehensions of danger from them, by considering
them as extraordinary events, by hoping we shall
escape them, and by flattering ourselves that we shall
arrive at a good old age.

Well ! you are to arrive at this good old age ! But
how many years will elapse before you do arrive at
it ? No, no, I repeat it again, nothing is more pro-
per to discover our fridlty. Should a thousand un-
common circumstances concur, should a vigorous con-
stitution, a wise and cautious course of action, and
a proper choice of diet unite to preserve you to this
age ; should you escape water, and fire, and thieves,
and earthquakes, the frailty of infancy, the impetuo-
sity of youth, and the infirmities of advanced age ;
should you by a kind of miracle arrive at the utmost
limits prescribed to mankind, what then ? Must you
not presently die ? The longest life seldom extends to
a century. When a man hath lived a hundred years
in the world, he is the wonder of the universe, and his
age alone renders him famous. The most obscure life
becomes conspicuous, when it is drawn out to this
length. It is spoken of as a prodigy, it is published
in foreign countries; history records the man who had
the extraordinary happiness to live to such an age, it
writes his name with precision, and transmits his me-
mory to the most distant posterity ; it says, at such a
time, in such a place, lived a m'^ who attained his
hundredth year. After this, he must die. Old age
is an incurable malady, and we are old at fourscore.

()!.

The Lives of Courtiers. 197

0 1 shadow of life, how vain art thou ! O grass ! liow
little a time dost thou flourish in our field ! O wise and
instructive principle of Barzillai, There is very little
distance between old age and death ! " How long have
I to live, that I should go up with the king unto Je-
rusalem ? I am this day fourscore years old, I pray
thee let me return, that I may die in mine own city, and
be buried by the grave of my father and my mother."

But if the principle of this good old man be well
founded, the consequence derived from it is better
founded, that is, that worldly affairs do not suit a man
drawing near the end of his life ; that when death is
so near, a man should be wholly employed in prepar-
ing for it. If Barzillai had been a wise man through
the whole course of his life, as we may suppose he had,
he had not put off till now a preparation for this event,
which is certainly the most serious and important of
life. Even they who have lived the most regularly,
and gone innocent through all the busy scenes of life,
have long accounts to settle, and questions of the last
importance to agitate, when they come to die. Every
thing engages Barzillai to avoid disconcerting himself
in his last moments, and to devote the few that remain
to seriousness. Yes, every thing engages him to do
so ; and to confine myself to some reflections, the
length of time he had lived, the cares of his mind at
present, and the consolation arising from a meditation
of death, all incline him to take leave of the king and
the court, the pleasures and the business of the world,
tables richly served, and concerts well performed ; all
incline him to think of nothing but death.

1. TJie Ions; time he had lived. If the account which
God requires every man to give at death be terrible
to all men, it should seem particularly so to old men.
An old man is responsible for all the periods of his
lifcj all the circumstances he has been in, and all the
connections he hath formed. Then, before a tribunal
':f impartial justice, will every instant of that long life,

which

1 98 The Lives of Courtiers,

which is now at an end, be examined. Then will all
the objects which time seems to have buried in eternal
silence be recalled to view. Then sins of youth,
which have left no trace on the mind, because the ea-
gerness with which we proceed to the commission of
new crimes, does not allow time to examine what
we have committed, then will they all rise out of
that sort of annihilation in which they seemed to be
lost. Fourscore years spent in offending thee^ my God!*
said a dying- man. Too true in the mouth of him who
said so ! Too true in the mouths of most old men !
A motive powerful enough to engage an old man to
employ in penitential exercises every moment which
the patience of God yet affords, and which, at his age,
cannot be many.

2. The continual cares which exercised the mind of
Barzillai, were a second spring of his action. We con-
sider riches as protectors from care ; but, in general,
they are the direct contrary. A rich man is obliged,
as it were, to give himself wholly up to discover and
defeat a general plot laid to engross his fortune. He
must resist such as would violently force it from him*
He must unmask others, who, under colour of justice,
and supported by law, involve him in law suits to es-
tablish illegitimate claims. He must penetrate through
a thousand pretences of generosity, disinterestedness,
and friendship, into the soul of a false friend, i^ho
aims at nothing but gratifying his own avarice or am-
bition. He must watch night and day to fix his
riches, which, having wings, are always ready to fly
away. How difficult is it for a soul, distracted with
so many cares, to devote as much time to work out
i>alvation, as a labour so important requires ! How ne-
cessary is it to make up, by retirement and recollection
in the last stages of life, what has been wanting in
days of former hurry, and which are now no mere ! I

recollect,

* Mr de Montausier. See the close oi his fiuieral oration, by
Flechier,

The Lives of Cowrtiers, 199

recollect, and I apply to Barzillai, a saying of a cap-
tain, of whom historians have taken more care to re-
cord the wisdom than the name. It is said, that the
saying struck the Emperor Charles V. and confirmed
him in his design of abdicating his crown, and retiring
to a convent. The captain required the Emperor to
discharge him from service. Charles asked the reason.
The prudent soldier replied. Because there ought to he a
pause between the hurry of life and the day of death.

3. In line, if Barzillai seemed to anticipate the<lying
day, by continually meditating on the subject, it was
because the meditation, full of horror to most men.
was full of charms to this good old man. When
death is considered as accompanied with condemna-
tory sentences, formidable irreversible decrees, chains
of darkness, insupportable tortures, smoke ascending
up for ever and ever, blazing fires, remorse, rage, des-
pair, desperate exclamations, ** mountains and rocks,
fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sit-
teth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb ;
for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall
be able to stand?" Rev, x. 11. andyi. 16, 17. When
we consider death, as so many men, alas ! ought to cour
sider it, and as by their continual irregularities they
prepare it for consideration, no wonder the thought is
disagreeable, and must be put far away. But when
death is considered, as some of you, my brethren, ought
to consider it, you whose faults have been washed with
penitential tears, and repaired by a real conversion,
your view of death is more delightful, and affords you
more pleasure than the tables of the great, the amuse-
ments of a court, and the most melodious concerts
could procure. Then these expressions, in appearance
so mortifying, let me return, let me die, are fraught
with happiness.

Let me die, that I may be freed from the many in-
firmities, and diseases, and pains, to which my frail
body is exposed !

Let

200 The Lives of Courtiers.

Let vie die, that I may get rid of the misfortunes,
the treachery, the perfidy, the numerous plots and
plans which are always in agitation against me, in a
society of mankind !

Let me die, and let me no more see truth persecuted
and innocence sacrificed to iniquity !

Let me die, let all my doubts and darkness vanish,
let me surmount all my difficulties, and let all the
clouds that hide interesting objects from me disappear!
Let me go to know as I am known, and let me put off
this body of sin ! Let me leave a world, in which
I cannot live without offending God ! Let me kin-
dle the fire of my love at the altar of the love of
God !

Let me die, and leave this untoward company of
men, who seem almost all to have taken counsel against
the Lord, and against his anointed, to subvert his
throne, and, were it possible, to deprive him of the
government of the world !

Let 7ne die, that I may form intimate connections
with happy spirits, and that I may enjoy that close
union with them, that communion of ideas, that con-
formity of sentiments, Avhich render heaven so de-
lightful!

Let me die, that I may behold the patriarchs and
the prophets who acquired in the church an everlast-
ing reputation, and on whose heads God hath already
placed the crowns which he promised to their faith and
obedience !

Let me die, that I may hold communion with the
happy God ! I feel a void within me, which none but
he can fill ; I feel desires elevating me to his throne ;
I feel " my soul longing and fainting, my heart and my
flesh crying out," when I think of presenting myself
before him, Psal. Ixxxiv. 2. Doth my heart say, " Seek
his face ? Thy face O Lord will I seek," Psal, xxvii. 8.
And, as in this vale of tears thou art always hidden, t
will seek thee in another economy ! .

Amedi-

The Lives of Covrtiers. • 201

A meditation of death, such as this, hath charms un-
known to tlie world ; but to you, my brethren, they
are not imknoAvn. The prospect of dying is better to
Barzillai than all the pleasures of a court. A tomb
appears more desirable to him than a royal palace.
" Let me turn back, that I may die, and be buried by
the grave of my father and my mother !" May we all
by a holy life prepare for such a death ! God grant
us grace to do so ! To him be honour and glory for-
ever ! Amen.

SERMON

SERMON VIIL

Christian Conversation.

CoLossiANS iv. 6.
Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt

TT is a complaint, as old as the study of human na-
ture, that mankind are prone to excess, that they
never observe a just mean; that in practising one virtue,
they neglect another ; that in avoiding one vice, they
run into an opposite ; in a word, that men usually go
into extremes. This general maxim, which is exem-
plified in almost all the actions of men, is particularly
remarkable in those familiar conversations, which
religion allows, which society renders necessary, and
for which God seems to have purposely formed us.
Observe the conduct of men in this article* you will
find every where excesses and extremes. On the one
hand, you will see rude and uncivil people putting on
in the most innocent companies austere looks, ever
declaiming against the manners of the world, exclaim-
ing against every body, affecting to be offended with
every thing, and converting every company into a
court of justice, resounding with sentences against the
guilty. On the other hand, you will find people,

under

£04< Christian Conversation,

under pretence of avoiding this extreme, exceeding^
the bounds of religion, and imagining that, in order
to please in conversation, Christianity must be laid aside,
and each expression must have an air sordid and vicious.
Nothing is so rare as a wise union of gravity and gen-
tility, piety and sAveetness of manners ; a disposition
that engages us to preserve inviolable the laws of re-
ligion without injuring the rights of society, and to do
justice to society without violating religion.

However, it is this just medium to w^hich we are
called, without which our conversation must be crimi-
nal, and which St Paul teaches us in the text : " Let^
your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt,"
" Let your speechbe seasonedwith salt;" here the rights
of religion are preserved, this is the livery of the gos-
pel, the character of Christianity. " Let your speech
be alway wdth grace ;" here the rights of society are
asserted, this is the innocent pleasure which Jesus
Christ allows us ; this is the sweetness of manners,
which, far from opposing, he expressly enjoins us to
acquire ^nd practise. The title of my discourse, then,
shall be, Jlie a}t of speaking ; and on this subject we
will treat:-— TAe ai^t of speaking, not according to the
rules of grammer, not in the sense used in polite aca-
demies, according to rules of worldly good breeding,
an art too insignificant to be taught in this pulpit ; but
the art of speaking according to the laws of the gospel,
according to the precepts of Jesus Christ, the christian
art of speaking.

May God, who hath called us to treat of this impor-
tant duty, enable us to treat of it properly ! May he so
direct us, that this discourse may serve us both for in-
struction and example ! May our language l.)e seasoned
with salt and grace ; with salt, that it may be grave and
agreeable to the majesty of this place, and to the purity
of our ministry ; and with grace, that we may acquire
your attention, and in:?ipiiate into your hearts ! Amen !

Salt must b(? the tirst seasoning of our conversation.

It

Christian Conversation. 205

It is hardly necessary to observe, that this term is me-
taphorical, and put for purity, of which salt is a symbol*
The reason of this metaphor is clear ; it is taken from
the use of salt, which preserves the flesh of animals
from putrefaction. For this purpose it was used in
sacrifices, according to the words of Jesus Christ,
** Every sacrifice shall be salted with salt." " Let your
speech l)e seasoned with salt," that is, never let your
lips utter any discourse which does not savour' of the
respect you have for the God you adore, the religion
you profess, and the christian name which you have
the honour to bear. This is, in substance, the first
law of conversation. Let us be more particular.

The spirit of this maxim may be expressed in five
rules. The apostle recommends a seasoning of piety,
a seasoning of chastity, a seasoning of charity, a sea-
soning of severity, and a seasoning of solidity. Con-
sequently he condemns five usual imperfections of
conversation. 1. Oaths. 2. Obscene language. 3.
Slander. 4. Extravagant complaisance. 5. Futility^
Either I am deceived, my brethren, or every person
in this auditory needs instruction in some one of these
articles.

1. The first vice of conversation, which the apostle
condemns, is swearing. The first seasoning, whici^ he
recommends to us, is the salt of |:>^e/?/. Sad necessity
for a christian preacher, preaching to a christian au-
dience ! Sad necessity, indeed, obliged to prove that
blasphemy ought to be banished from conversation !
however, it is indispensibly necessary to prove ti>is,
for nothing is so common among some called christians
as this detestable vice. It is the ellect of two princi-
ples, the first is a brutal madness, andp.M'-f)thet i^ ^
jiiost false and fanciful idea of superior iinderstanding
^tmd free and easy behaviour.

It is a brutal madness that puts some people on
swearing. Our language seems too poor to express
this disposition, and the words hrutalitij and madness

are

206 Christiafi Conversation.

are two vague to describe the spirit of such as are
guilty of this crime. These, shall I call them men or
brute beasts ? cannot be agitated with the least passion ^
without uttering the most execrable imprecations.
Froward souls, who cannot endure the least controul
without attacking God himself, taxing him with cruelty
and injustice, disputing with him the government of
the world, and, not being able to subvert his throne,
assaulting him with murmurings and blasphemies.
Certainly nothing can be so opposite to this salt of
conversation as this abominable excess. They who
practise it ought to be secluded from christian societies,
yea to Le banished even from worldly companies.
Thus the supreme Lawgiver, able to save and to de-
stroy, hath determined. Read the twenty-fourth of
Leviticus, " The son of an Israelitish woman blas-
phemed the name of the Lord," ver. 1 1 , &c. At this
news all Israel trembled v.ith horror. The prudent
Moses paused, and consulted Gdd himself whait to do
in this new and unheard-of case. The oracle informed
liim in these words, " Bring forth him that hath cursed
without the camp, and let all that heard him lay their
hands upon his head, and let all the congregation stone
him. And thou, Moses, shalt speak unto the children of
Israel, saying, Whosoev^er curseth his God shall bear his
sin, and he that blasphemeth the name of the Lord shall
surely be put to death, and all the congregation shall
certainly stone him." Have you attended to this sen-
tence ? It not only regards the blasphemer, it regards
all that hear him. If you be sincere members of the
congregation of Israel, you ought, though not to stone
the blasphemer, yet to declare your abhorrence of his
conduct, and, if he remain incorrigible, to endeavour
to rid society of such a monster.

Human legislators have treated such people with
the utmost rigour. The Emperor Justinian condemned
blasphemers to death *, Some have bored their

tongues.

* Constitut, Ixxi. a Ixvi.

Christian Conversation, 207

tongues*. Others have drowned themf . Others have
branded them with a red hot iron in the forehead j:,
intending, by fixing this mark of infamy in a part so
visible,^ to guard people against keeping company
with a blasphemer. It was Lewis the ninth, a king
of France, who was the author of this law. I cannot
help relating the words of this prince in justification
of the severity of the law. A man of rank in the king-
dom having uttered blasphemy, great intercession wa^
made for his pardon ; but the king*s answer was this,
/ would submit, said he, to be buimt in the forehead my-
self, if by enduring the pain I could purify my kingdom
from blasphemy.

We affirmed, further, that some people habituated
themselves to swearing, from false notions of glory
and freedom of conversation. A man sets up for a
wit in conversation, he pretends to conciliate the esteem
of his company, and affects to put on the air of a man
of the world, free from the stiffness of pedants. (This
is not an invention of mine, this is a natural portrait,
my brethren, and some of you gave me the original.)
This man, I say, having taken into his head this de-
sign, and not being able to derive means of succeed-
ing from his genius, or education, calls in the aid
of oaths ; of these he keeps various forms, and ap-
plies them instead of reasons, having the folly to ima-
gine that an oath artfully placed at the end of a period
renders it more expressive and polite ; and, judging
of the taste of his hearers by his own, inwardly ap-
plauds himself, and wonders what heart can resist the
power of his eloquence. An elocution mean and
contemptible, and fitter for an unbriiidled soldiery than
ibr those that command them. An elocution directly
opposite to the words of my text, " Let your speech be
seasoned with salt." Never let the name of God go out

of

*Beyerlinc. Theatr. vit. human, torn. iii. page 139.
t Ibid. + Paul. Emil. de gest, Franc, fol. ir»4?,

pag. 2. edit, de Vascoscan IoTC

208 Christia7i Conversaiion.

of yovir lips without exciting such sentiments of vette'^
ration in your minds as are due to that sacred name.
Never speak of the attributes of God in conversation
without recollecting the Majesty of that Being to whom
they belong. " Accustom not thy mouth to swearing,"
said the wise son of vSirach, " neither use thyself to
the naming of the holy One ; for he that nameth God
continually shall not be faultless/' JEcclus. xxii. 9, 10.
The first vice of conversation to be avoided is swear-
ing and blasphemy, the first seasoning of conversation
is piety.

2. The apostle prescribes us a seasoning of chastity.
Against this duty there are some direct and some ob-
lique attacks. Direct violaters of this law are those
nauseous mouths, which cannot open without putting
modesty to the l:)lush, by uttering language too offen-
sive to be repeated in this sacred assembly, yea, too
filthy to be mentioned any where without breaking
the laws of worldly decency. We are not surprised
that people without taste, and without education,
that a libertine, who makes a trade of debauchery,
and who usually haunts houses of infamy, should
adopt this style ; but that christian women, who pro-
fess to respect virtue, that they should suffer their ears
to be defiled with such discourse, that they should
make parties at entertainments and at cards with
such people, and so discover that they like to have
their ears tickled with such conversation, is really
astonishing. We repeat it again, decorum and worldly
decency are sufficient to inspire us with horror for
this practice. And shall the maxims of religion affect
us less than human rules ? " Fornication and all un-
cleanness," said St Paul, " let it not be once named
among you, as becometh saints," Eph. v. 3.

Barefaced immodest discourse is not the most dan-
gerous, for it ought to be then least tolerated, because
it is then most execrable when it is uttered equivocally.
There is an art of disguising obscenity, and of convey-
ing poison the most fatally, by communicating it in

preparations

Christian Conversation* 20$

preparations the most subtil and refined. Men in ge-
neral choose rather to appear virtuous than to be so,
and, to accommodate such people, there is an art of
introducing vice under coverings so thick as to seem
to respect the modesty of the company, and yet so thin
as fully to expose it. A fine and delicate allusion, a
lively and original tbur of expression, an ingenious e-
quivocation, a double meaning, an arch look, an affect-
ed gravity, these are the dangerous veils, these the in-
struments that wound us when we are off our guard/
For what can you say to a man who behaves in this
manner ? If you suffer his airs to pass without censure,
he will glory in your indulgence, and take your silence
for approbation. If, on the other hand, you remon-
strate, he will tax you with his own crime ; he will tell
you that your ear is guilty, his language is innocent ;
that immodesty is in your heart, not in his expressions;
and that of two senses to which his language is appli-
cable, you have adapted the immodest, when you ought
to have taken the chaste meaning.

If to talk in this manner be to make an offerino- of
the tongue to the enemy of our salvation, certainly to
lend an ear to such conversation, and by certain ex-
pressive smiles to promise a favourable attention to it,
is to dedicate the ear to him. And do not deceive
yourselves, you will never be able to persuade such as
know the human heart, that you love virtue, while you
take pleasure in hearing conversation injurious to vir-
tue. You will be told, and with great reason, that
you are a friend to nothing but the appearance of it-»
Were virtue itself the object of your esteem, you
would not keep company with such as wound it. But
by your indulgence of such people, you give us great
reason to presume, that were not human laws and
worldly decency in your way, you would give your-
self up to the practice of vice ; for, in spite of these,
you take pleasure in beholding it when appearances

VOL. IV. o are

*2ro Christian Conversatioih

are saved, and even disguise it yourself under specious'
pretexts.

Further, we include in our notion of immodest con-
versation, licentious songs, which lawless custom has
riDndered too familiar ; songs which, under a pretence
of gratifying a passion for vocal and instrumental mu-
sic, disseminate a thousand loose, not to say lascivious
maxims, excite a thousand irregular emotions, and
^lierish many criminal passions. Attend to this arti-
cle of our discourse, ye parents, who idolize your chil-
dren, children whom ye ought to dedicate to Jesus
Christ, but whom you lead into a licentiousness that
is a disgrace to your families. Music is an art crimi-
nal or innocent according to the use made of it. Those
pious men v/hom the hoiy scriptures propose to us for
models, did not deny themselves the enjoyment of it ;
but they applied it to propel* subjects. St Paul evenb
recommends it. Lei ike word^ of Christ dwell in you
richly in all wisdoin, teaching and admonishing one ano^
iher hi psalms, and hymns, and spirihial songs, singing .
with grace in your hearts to the Lord, Col. iii. 16. Thus
also a prophet formerly applied both his voice and his in-
strument to celebrate the praises of his Creator. " A-
wake up, my glory, awake, psaltery and harp, L my-
self will awake early. I will praise thee, O Lord, a-
mong the people ; I will sing unto thee among the na-
tions. Siiig aloud' uiito God our strength; make a
joyful noise unto the God' of Jacob. Take a psalm,
and bring hither the timbrel, the pleasant Harp with the
psaltery," Psal. Ivii: 8, 9. and Ixxxi. 1, 2, &c. Thus a
christian musician ought to sing ; but never, never
should his mouth utter licentious verses. An unchaste
tongue is a sad sign of a depraved heart. A woman
who paints vice in colours so agreeable, proves, that
she considers it in a very amiable light, and has no
objection to the practice of it. For my part, I shall
never be able to persuade myself that any consecrate

their

Christian Conversatioli. 211

their bodies to be temples of the Holy Ghost, who, to
use an expression of St Paul, make their tongues ?nem'
hers of an harlot, 1 Cor. vi. \5.

3 Slander and calumny are a third defect of conver-
sation, and the third law which our apostle imposes on
lis is a seasoning of charity. I freely acknowledge,
my brethren, that I cannot enter on this article with-
out losing that moderation of temper, which is neces-
sary to a preacher who would treat of the subject pro-
perly. Whether it be weakness of mind, or self-inter-
est, or whether it be the enormous lengths to which
you practise this vice in this place, too much practise
ed. alas, every where ! or whatever be the cause, I can
scarcely retain my temper ; for I feel myself at once
ready to confound instruction with reproof. Is there
any character among you so respectable, any intention
so innocent, any conduct so irreproachable, any piety
so conspicuous, as to escape the cruelty of your calum-
niating conversations ?

What shall I say to you my brethren ? I wish I knew
how to collect the substance of many sermons into this
one article : I would endeavour to exhibit calumny in
one small portrait, at which you might continually
look, and which might perpetually inspire you with
holy horror.

1. Consider this vice in its source. Sometimes it
proceeds from littleness of mind, for there are people
who connot converse, they neither understand religion
or government, arts or sciences, and their conversa-
tion would languish and die avvay, were not the void
filled up with a detail of the real imperfections of
their neighbours, or of others, which the most cruel
malignity ascribes to them, and the number of these
always far surpasses that of real defects. Sometimes
it comes from pride. People wish to be^ superior to
their neighbours, and not having the noble courage
to rise above them by the practice of more virtue,

9 they

^Ig rChristian Conversaiion,

they endeavour to sink them by slanderous convfersa-^
tion. Sometimes envy is the source. There are per-
sons who place their happiness in the misery of others.
A neig'hbour's prosperity shocks them, his reputation
wounds them, and his rest is their torment. Some-
times a guilty conscience generates slander. Bad men
fear the public eye should discover and fix on their
own crimes, and they try to prevent this misfortune by
artfully turning the attention of spectators from them-
selves to the vices of their fellow-citizens.

2. Consider the fatal consequences of slander. Judg^
of the hearts of others by your own. What makes
one man invent a calumny induces another to receive
and publish it. As soon as ever the voice of slander
is heard, a thousand echoes repeat it, and publish
vices which your want of charit}^ or excess of injustice,
attributed to your neighbour. What renders this
the more deplorable is the usual readiness of man-
kind to give credit to calumny ; a readiness on the oner
part to utter calumny, and on the other to believe it,
overwhelm a neighbour with all the misery of defa-
mation.

3. Consider the duties v/hich the}^ who commit this^
erime bind themselves to perform ; duties so hard,
that some would rather die than perform them, and
yet duties so indispensable, that no man can expect
either favour or forgiveness w ho neglects the discharge
of them. The first law we impose on a man who
hath unjustly acquired the property of a neighbour, is^
to restore it. The first law we impose on a man who
bath injured the reputation of an another, is to repair
it. There is a restitution of honour as well as of for-*
tune. Which of you, now, v/ho hath dealt in slander,
dare from the just and generous resolution of going
from iiouse to house to publish his retractions ? Who
■is there among you, that by committing this sin does
not hazard all his own' reputation?

4. Consider

Christian Conversatioju 218

4. Consider how extremely opposite this sin is to the
l^w of charity. You know the whole religion of Jesus
Christ tends to love. The precepts he gave, the doc-
trines he taught, the Vv'orship he prescribed, the ordi-
nances he instituted, the whole gospel is the breath of
love. But Avhat can be more incompatible with love
than slander ! consequently who deserves less the name
of christian than a slanderer ?

5. Consider how many different forms caliunny as-
sumes. In general, all the world agree it is one of
the most hateful vices : yet it is curious to see how
persons who declaim the most loudly against this crime,
practise it themselves. All the world condemn it, and
all the world slide into the practice of it. The repu-
tation of our neighbour is not only injured by tales
studied and set, but an air, a smile, a look, an affected
abruptness, even silence, are envenomed darts shot at
the same mark, and it will be impossible for us to avoid
faUing into the temptation of committing this crime^
unless we keep a perpetual watch.

6. Consider the various illusions, and numberless^
jyretexis, of which people avail themselves, in order to
conceal from themselves the turpitude of tliis crime.
One pretends he said nothing but the truth ; as if cha-
rity, did not oblige us to conceal the real vices of a
neighbour, as well as not to attribute to him fanciful
ones. Another justifies his conduct by pretending
that he is animated not by hatred, but by equity ; as if
God had appointed every individual to exercise ven-
geance, and to be an executioner of his judgments ; as
if, supposing the allegation true, a man does not sin
against his own * principles (for he pretends equity)
Vr hen he shews his neighbour iu an unfavourable point
of view, by publishing his imperfections and conceal-
ing his virtues. Another excuses himself by saying,
that as the affair was public he might surely b/e per-
iniitted to mention it ; as if charitv was never violated

except

214 Christian Conversation,

by discovering unknown vices ; as if men were not
forbidden to relish that malicious pleasure which arises
from talking over the knoAvn imperfections of their
neighbours.

7. Consider, into what an unhappy situation calumny
puis an innocent person^ who tviskes to avoid, it What,
must a man dp to preclude or to put down a calum-
ny ? Cherish good humour, paint pleasure in your
face, endeavour by your pleasing deportment to com-
municate happiness to all about you, be, if I may
speak so, the life and soul of society, and it will be
said, you are not solid, you have the unworthy ambi-
tion of becoming the amusement of mankind. Put
on an austere air, engrave on your countenance, if I
may speak thus, the great truths that fill your soul,
and you will be taxed with pharisaism and hypocrisy ;
it will be said, that you put on a fair outside to render
yourself venerable, but that under all this appearance
very likely you conceal an impious irreligious hef^rt.
Take a middle way, regulate your conduct by times
and places, weep with them that iveep, and rejoice with
them, that rejoice, and you will be accused of luke-
warmness. Pick your company, confine yourself to
a small circle, make it a law to speak freely only to
a iew select friends who will bear with your weak-
nesses, and who know your good qualities, and you
will be accused of pride and arrogance ; it will be
said, that you think the rest of mankind unworthy
of your company, and that you pretend wisdom and
taste are excluded from all societies, except such as
you deign 'to frequent. Go every where, and in a
spirit of the utmost condescension converse with
^very individual of mankind, and it will be said you
are unsteady, a city, a province cannot satisfy you,
you lay all the universe under contribution, and oblige
the V, hole world to try to satiate your unbounded love
of pleasure.

Christian Conversation. 21^

In fine, consider wliat punishnent the holy Spirit has
denounced against cakminv, and in what class of man-
kind he hatii placed slanderers : You who, by a pre-
judice, which is too general a rule of judging, imagine
^^ow possess all virtues, because you are free from one
vice, to use the language of a modern author,* yoUv
who poison the reputation of a neighbour in company,
and endeavour thus to avenge yourself on him for the
pain which his virtues give you, in what list hath St
Paul put you ? He hath classed you with misers, ido-
laters, debauchees, and adulterers, " If any man be a
fornicator, or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, v:\t\i
sucli an one keepnocompany,nonottoeat." *^ Neither
fornicators, nor idolater?, nor adulterers, noreffeminate,
nor abusers of theiBselves with mankind, nor thieves,
nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, (this is your
place) nor extortioners shall inherit the kingdom of
God," 1 Cor. V. 11. and vi. 9. But we judge of vices
and virtue, not according to the rules laid down ia
the gospel, but according to such as prevail in the
world. It is not Jesus Christ, it is the world, that is
our sovereign. We blush at what they censure, and
we feel no remorse at committing what they think fit
to tolerate. Ah ! why are not legislators more indul-
gent when they condemn to racks and gibbets a wretch
whom excess of hunger impelled to steal our property ;
wdiy do they not inflict one part of theii' rigour on
him who, in cool blood, and with infernal malice, robs
us of our reputation and honour ! Let i/oiir speech he
seasoned ivith the salt of charity.

Fourthly, The apostle intends to inspire us with
a seasoning of severttij, and to Imnish from our con-
versations a fourth vice, wliich we have named ex^
travagant complaisance. When is complaisance ex-
travagant ? Are we going to pass encomiums on
such untoward spirits as disturb all mankind ; on

such

* Flechier=

216 Christian Conversation,

such superstitious martyrs of truth and virtue as ren-
der themselves impertinent by affecting regularity,
such as represent piety under an appearance so fright-
ful that it cannot be taken for piety, and give it an air
so hideous that it is impossible to love it ? No, mj
brethren. In this article we deplore a frailty too
common among the best christians. We fall into ^
circle of bad company, we hear them blaspheme the
name of God, attack religion, profane the most holy
mysteries, and calumniate innocence. We tremble
at this conversation, and from the bottom of our souls
detest it ; our spirit is stirred in us, we are like St
Paul, when he saw the Athenian idolatry, but we con-
ceal our pious indignation, we dare not openly avow
it, Ave even embolden the criminal by infirmity, though
not by inclination.

A christian ought to know how to unfurl the ban-
ner of Jesus Christ ; and as, in times of persecution,
a man was reputed ashamed of his faith, and guilty of
idolatry by silence and neutrality ; as the casting
of a single grain of incense on the altar of an idol
was accounted an act of opostacy, so when the emis-
saries of vice attack religion on the practical side, a
man ought to say, I am a christian ; he ought not to
be ashamed of the gospel of Christ ; he ought to re-
strain the infidel, repress the libertine, resist the ca-
lumniator.

Finally, Perpetual voids are a fifth defect of conver-i-
sation, and a fifth duty prescribed to us. is a seasoning
of soliditj/._ It is Jesus Christ himself who furnisheth
us with this reflection, by informing us in the gospel,
that we must give an account for evejy idle word. In
order to profit by this declaration we must understand
it, and in order to understand it, we must avoid two
extremes equally opposite to the design of the Saviour
of the world, we must neither give the passage a sense
\op rigorous nor too lax.
' ' ' ' First,

Christian Conve^^sation, 217

First, the words of Jesus Christ must not be taken
in a sense too rigorous. He does not mean by idle,
words these discourses, of which we do not immediate-
ly perceive the utility, but which, however, are, una-
voidable in an intercourse with mankind. There are
two ways of proving that our Saviour had not in view
this sort of conversation.

1 . It should seem, by examining the original, that
the passage ought to be rendered not idle words, but
wicked words. Many expositors adopt this sense, and
affirm, that the Greek word here used answers to a
Hebrew word, which signifies both useless and 2vicked.^'
We are certain the writers of the new testament fre-
quently use Greek words in a Hebrew sense. As then
the Hebrew word signifies wicked and useless, these
expositors thought they had a right to translate the
word wicked, not idle. Moreover, they add, that the
original Greek word has this meaning, and is frequent-
ly taken in an active sense (forgive this technical term)
and not always in a passive, in good authors ; that is,
it does not mean only that which is not directed to any
good end, but that which actually defeats a good de-
sign. Thus Cicero, speaking of the opponents of the
Stoics, say, they accuse the doctrine of their philoso-
phers concerning fat^, of being an idle doctrine ; he
uses the same term that is used in the passage we are
considering, and he means, by an idle doctrine, a doc-
trine vvhich encourages idleness. For, say the enemies
of the Stoics, if a blind fate produces our virtues and
vices, all our efforts are useless, and we may waste our
lives in idleness. By idle luords, then, Jesus Christ
means to forbid, not v. ords merely useless, but words
which have a bad tendency, as those had which attri-
buted the miracles of Christ to magic.

There is a second way of restraining the meaning of
Jesus Christ. Let us retain the term idle, used in our
• version,

^ Le Clerc m Hammond on Matt. xii. 26.

218 Christian Conversation.

version, and let us explain this passage a3 we explain
all other passages in scripture which forbid idleness.
When the scripture enjoins us to labour^ does it mean
that we should be always at work ? When it forbids us
to be idle, does it mean to disallow relaxation and rest ?
Does it blame an honest recreation ? No. It condemns
only such as consume all their life in inaction. Thus
here, Jesus Christ, by condemning idle words, does not
mean those innocent conversations which we have ob-
served are necessary, but he means such as are made
up of nothing but vanity and unprofitableness.

Let us, however, carefully avoid giving a loose
sense to the words of Jesus Christ. He allows vague
and superficial conversation only as he allows idleness.
He means that, in general, our conversation should
turn on grave and useful subjects.

We generally persuade ourselves that churches and
closets are the only places where we ought to employ
ourselves about solid subjects. Let us undeceive our-
selves. We ought to attend to such subjects even
while we are in pursuit of pleasure. For example,
are we returning from a sermon ? Why not entertain
one another with the subjects we have been hearing ?
Why not endeavour to imprint on one another's me-
mories the truths that have been proved, and to im-
press on one another's hearts such precepts as have
been enforced ? Have we been visiting a dying person ?
Why not make such reflections as naturally occur on
such occasions the matter of our conversation ? Why
not embrace such a fair opportunity of speaking on
the vanity of life, the uncertainty of worldly enjoy-
ments, and the happiness of a pious departure to rest ?
Have we been readmg a good book ? Why not con-
verse with our companions on the information we have
qeriv^ed from it ? Are we ministers of religion ? Surely
there is great propriety in entertaining our friends with

the

Christian Conversation, 219

the subjects which we teach in public, and investi-
gate in our studies. Why should we not apply them
to the benefit of such as surround us ? Wiiy not en-
deavour to subdue that resistance which the wretch-
ed hearts of mankind make to the truths of religion ?
Were these rules observed, each company would be-
come a school of instruction, the more useful because
the more natural and easy, and knowledge and virtue
would be mutually cherished.

What ! say some, would you prohibit all the plea-
sure of life ? Must we never open our mouths but to
utter sententious discourses ? Would you condemn us
to eternal melancholy ? Ah ! this is a gross error.
Pleasure is incompatible with piety; Is it? What! is
piety so offensive to you that it spoils all your pleasure
if it only makes its appearance ?

After all, what pleasure can those vain conversations
afford, which consume the greatest part of life ? Had
we been always sequestered from the rest of mankind,
perhaps we might imagine that the confused noise
made by a company of talkers about nothing might
give pleasure ; but who that has seen the world can
fall into this error? What ! superficial chat abuut the
most common appearances of nature ! Tiresome tittle
tattle about the sun and the rain ! Ill-timed visits, per-
petually returning, always a burden to those who pay,
and to those who receive them ! Are these the pleasures
which you prefer before a sensible useud conversation!
Puerile mistake ! It is the solid sense and utility of a
conversation that make the pleasure of it. " Let your
speech be always seasoned Avith salt."

Let us proceed to examine the other term, grace.
St Paul says " let your speech be always with grace."
We have before intimated, that the apostle means by
the word grace, agreeableness, gracefulness. The word
grace, we allow, must oi'ten be taken in scripture in
0 very differex^t sense ; but two reasons determine us

to

22© €!hnstian Conversation,

to take it here in this sense. 1. The nature of the
thing. It was natural for the apostle, after he had
spoken of what sanctifies conversation, to speak of
what renders it insinuating. 2. The word is often
taken in this sense in scripture. Thus the wise man
Says, " Grace is deceitful, and beauty is vain," Prov,
xxxi. SO. And thus the psalmist, " grace is poured
intothy lips*,"Psal. xlv. 2.

But what is this grace ? I think we must have ob-
served, tliat the disagreeableness of conversation gene-
rally proceeds from one of these five causes ; either
from extravagant raillery, or from proud decisions,
or from bitter disputes, or from invincible obstinacy,
or from indiscreet questions. Against these five vices
we oppose five virtues, or, to use the language of the
text, five sorts of graces, which render conversation
charming : The grace of complaisance, the grace of
humility, tlxe grace of moderation, the grace of do-
cility, and the grace of discretion. These we call the
graces, the embellishments of conversation.

1 . Extravagant raillery generally poisons conversa-
tion^ Who can bear to be turned into ridicule ?
Who likes to have his own foibles exposed ? Who
would choose to be the subject of the wit of a com-
pany, especially when, not being able to leturn wit
ibr wit, a man is obliged tacitly to own himself a
genius inferior to those who attack him ? Abstract

reasonings

* Our author follows the reading of his own French version ii;
Prov. xxxi. SO. La grace trompe, d la heavic s'cvanouit. Cur tran-
slation rea(is^ Favour is deceitful, and heautij is vaiii; but critics
render the original word, gratia, graiiositas, vetustas morum, scr-
monum, actionum, gestuiun. So that Mr S. rnay be justified in
giving this sense to the text. In the same sejise, it should secm^ is
tluit famous passage in John i. 17- grace and truth came bij Jesus
Christ, to be taken. Grace signifies here afTability, sweetness of
deportment^ propriety of behaviour^ conformity between tlie good
news iic brouglit, and the graceful manner in which he delivered
the messacje.

Chisiian Conversation, 221

reasonings are not necessary to make this article plain.
We appeal only to the feelings of sucli as make a
trade of rallying others. How is it, pray, that yoii
cannot bear to be rallied in your turn ? Whence that
gloomy silence ? How is it, that your vivacity is ex-
tinct, and your spirits damped, unless you, as well as
the rest of mankind, love to be respected ?

_ We Vvould substitute co?7ipIaisance in the place of
extravagant raillery. Instead of making a little ge-
nius feel his insignificance, v/e should stoop to his size.
Courtiers understand this art well, and they knovv as
^vell when to make use of it, either to obtain the
esteem of a superior, or to acquire the friendship of
an inferior, or an equal. See with what address
fhey shew you to yourselves by your bright sides.
Observe with what dexterity they entertain you with
w^hat you are pleased and interested in. And shall
christian charity yield to worldly politeness ?

2. A second vice that poisons conversation is
proud decision. What can be more intolerable than a
man who stalks into company as a genius of the first
order, who lays down his own infallibility as a first
principle, who delivers out his nostrums as infallible
oracles, as the decisions of a judicature so high that
it would be criminal to appeal from them ? What
aggravates the injustice of this character is, that these
, peremptory people are generally the most ignorant ;[
/ and that their ignorance is the cause of their positive -j
ziess. A little ignorant genius, who hath never gone
to the bottom of any one article of science, who
knows neither the objections that lie against a subject,
fior the arguments that support it, who knows no-
thing but the surface of any thing, quickly fancies'
that he perfectly comprehends, and can fully ascertaiji
the subject of his attention. He does not know whar
it is to doubt, and he pities those who do. On the
contrary, a man of real knowledge knows ?^o v/ell hx

'J^2 Christian Conversation^

his own experience the weakness of the human mind/
and so thoroughly understands his own defects, that
lie keeps in himself a counterpoise for pride ; he pro-
poses his opinions only as problems to be examined,
and not as decisions to be obeyed. This is what we
call the grace of humility. A man ought to submit
his judgment to the discussion of those to whom he
proposes it; he should allow every one a liberty of think-
ing for himself, and presuppose, that if he has reason,-
so have others ; that if he has learning, others have it
too ; that if he has meditated on a subject, so have
others. Even subjects, of the truth of which we are
most fully persuaded, ought to be so proposed as to
convince people that it is a love of truth, and not a
high conceit of ourselves, that makes us speak, and
thus we should exemplify the rule laid down by an
apostle, " Let nothing be done through strife or vain-
glory ; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other
better than themselves," Phil. ii. 3.

3. A bitter spirit of disputing i^ a third vice of con-'
versation. Yield instantly, yield ev^n when you have
reason on your side, rest satisfied with knowing the
truth yourself, when they to whom you propose it
wilfully shut their eyes against it. The reason of this
maxim is this : When a man refuses to admit a pro-
position sufficiently demonstrated, the more you press
him, the further he will recede from you. The prin-
ciple that induces him to cavil is pride, and not weak-
ness of capacity ; if you persist in shewing him the
truth, you will irritate his pride by confounding it ;
whereas, if you give his passion time to cool and sub-
side, perhaps he will return of himself and renounce
his error.

St Paul was an excellent model of this grace of mo-
deration^ " u^to Jews he became as a Jew, to them that
were without law as without law, all things to all men,"
1 Cor. ix. 20. Why ? was it idleness or cowardice ?

Neithery

Christian Conversation, 22S

l^^eirfier ; for never was servant more zealous for the
interest of his master, never did soldier fight with
more courage for his prince. It was owing to his
moderation and charity. Unto the Jews I became as
a Jew, *' that I might gain the Jews;" to them that
are without law as without law, " that I might by all'
means save some."

4. Obstinacy is incompatible with the grace of dod-
litij, a necessary ingredient in agreeable conversation.
To persist in maintaining a proposition because we
have advanced it, to choose rather to heap up one ab-
surdity upon another than to give up the first, to be
deceived a thousand times rather than to say once, I
am mistaken ; what can be more contrary to good
manners in conversation than these dispositions ? It is
a high enjoyment to open one's eyes to the light when
it rises on us, and to testify by a sincere recantation
that we proposed our opinions rather with a desire to
be instructed in what w^e did not know, than to display
our abilities in what we did understand.

Finally, Indiscreet questions are a fifth pest of con-
versation ; questions which put a man^s mind upon the
rack, and reduce him to the painful dilenmia either
of not answering, or of betraying his secrets. Too
much eagerness to pry into other men's concerns is
frequently more intolerable than indifference ; and to
determine, in spite of a man, to be his confident, is to
discover more indiscreet curiosity thanchristian charity,
St Paul reproved the widows of his time for this vice,,
and in them all succeeding christians. '*' Younger
widows learn to be idle, and not only idle, but tattlers
also, and busy bodies, speaking things which they
ought not," 1 Tim. v. 11, 13. The gi'ace opposite to
tills vice is discretion.

My brethren, the truths you have been hearins^ pre
of the number of these to v/hich in general the ieast
attention is paid. Few people have ideas of piety

^24} Christian Conversaiion.

to refined as to include the duties which we have bceh
inculcating. Few people put into the list of their sins
to be repented of, the vices we have been reproving,
few therefore are concerned about them. Yet there
are many motives to engage us to use extreme caution
in bur conversations. I will just mention a few.

First. Vices of conversation are daily sins ; they are
repeated till they form a habit ; by slow degrees they
impair and destroy conscience ; and in a manner the
more dangerous, because the process is imperceptible,
and because little or no pains are taken to prevent it.
Great crimes have a character of horror, which
throws us off at a distance. If we happen to be sur-»
prised into a commission of them through our own
weakness, the soul is terrified, repentance instantly
follows, and repetition is not very common ; but in
the case before us, sin makes some progress every day,
every day the enemy of our salvation obtains some ad-
vantage over us, every day renders more difficult and
impracticable the great work, for which we were
created.

Secondly. By practising these vices of conversa-
tion we give great ground of suspicion to others, and
we ought to be persuaded ourselves, that our hearts^
are extremely depraved. It is in vain to pretend to
exculpate ourselves 1by pretending that these are only
words, that words are but air, empty sounds without
effect. No, says Jesus Christ, " out of the abundance of
the heart the mouth speaketh," Matt. xii. 34. Hence
this saying of St Cbrysostom, The tongue often blushes-
,^ speak what the heart dictates; but the heart, having nq
witness, gives itself tip to irregular passions. It is onli/
owing to a superfluity of depravity within, that the tongue
renders it vinble^. If then our reputation be dear to
us, if we have at heart the edification of our neigh-
Vurs, if we wish to assure our hearts that we are up-
right

* Cbrysostom. Tom. i. Horn. 43. in Matth.

Chrislicm Conversation. '22B

right in the sight of God, who continually sees and
thoroughly knows us, let our conversation be a constant
and irreproachable witness.

Lastly, Thejudgmentof God should be a prevalent
motive with us. You have heard it from the mouth
^ of Jesus Christ. You will be required to " give an ac-
count in the day of judgment for every idle word. For
by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words
thou shalt be condemned," Matt. xii. S6, 37. AVe judge
of our conversations only by the impressions they make
on our minds, and as they seem to us only as sounds
lost in the air, we persuade ourselves they cannot
materially affect our eternal state. But let us be-
lieve^ eternal truth ; " by thy words thou shalt be jus-
tified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."
Dreadful thought ! t'or wtich of us can recollect all
the vain words he has uttered the last ten years? They
are gone along with the revolutions of time, they ex-
pired the moment they were born. Yet they are all, all
registered in a faithful memory, they are all, all writ-
ten in a book ; they will be all one day brought to our
remembrance, they ^\'ill be weighed in the balance of
the sanctuary, and will contribute in tliat day to fix
our eternal doom. " O Lord ! enter not into judgment
with thy servant ! O God ! cleanse thou me from se-
cret faults ;" Psal. cxliii. 2. and xix. 13. These are
three motives to animate us to practise the duty under
consideration, We will add three rules, to help us
the more easily to discharge iL

L If we would learn to season our conversation,
we must choose our company. This is often disputed ;
however, we affirm, conformity of manners is the
bond of this commerce. Seldom does a man pass his
life with a slanderer without calumniating. Few
people keep company with li{3ertines unless tiiey be
profligate themselves. Example carries Us away in
spite of ourselves. X pagan poet advanced this maxini,
find St Paul, by (quoting, hath consecrated it. " Evil

VOL. IV. V communications

226 Christian Conversation.

commimications corrupt good manners," 1 Cor. xv. S'^.
Let lis begin a reformation of our conversation by se-
lecting our companions. Let us break with the ene-
mies of God. Let us dread the contagion of poison,
and avoid tlie manufacturers of it. As there is no
sinner so obstinate as not to be moved by an intercourse
with good men, so there is no virtue so well established
as not to be endangered by an intimacy with the
wicked»

2. A second great secret in conversation is the art
of silence. To talk a great deal, and to reflect on all
that is said, arc two things incompatible, and certainly
we cannot speak wisely, if we speak without reflec-
tion. The book of Eeclesiasticus advises us to " make
a door and a bar for the mouth," chap, xxviii. 25.
" The fool," said tlie wise man, *' is full of words,"
Eccles. X. 14. "I will take heed to my ways, that I
sin not with my tongue. I will keep my mouth with
a bridle," PsaL xxxix. 1. An ancient hermit abused
this maxim ; for, after he had heard the first verse of
the thirty-ninth psalm, he refused to hear the second,
saying, the first was lesson sufficient for him. The
reader of this verse to him asked him many years after
whether he had learnt to reduce this lesson to practice.
Nineteen years, replied the hermit, have 1 been trying,
and have hardly attained the practice. But there was
some reason in the conduct of this hermit, though he
earned the matter to excessi In order to speak well,
we must speak but little, remembering ahvays the
maxim of St James, "If any man seem to be religious,
and bridleth not his tongue, this man's religion is^
vain," chap. i. 26.

In fine, the great nde to govern the tongue is to
govern the heart. '• Keep thy heart with all diligence,
for out of it are the issues of life," Pro v. iv. 23. In?
vain do you strive to prevent effects, unless you re-
move the cause. It is in vain to purify the streams^
while the spring continues polluted* It is in vain to

attempt

Christian Conversation. 227

littenipt a few forced actions, like those mentioned by
the psalmist, " whose words were softer than oil, when
war was in their heart," Psal- Iv. 21. It is extremely
difficult to act long under constraint. The heart in-
sensibly guides the tongue. Would you avoid rash
judging, obscenity, calumny, fawning, all the vices of
which we have shewn the enormity, begin with your
own heart. There establish the love of God. Love
piety, respect virtue, and talk as you will, you cannot
but speak well.

Let us feel these motives, my brethren. Let us
obey these rules. Let us practise these duties. Let
us blush for having so long lived in the neglect of them.
Henceforth let us dedicate our voices to the praise of
our Creator. Let us praise God. To praise God is
the noblest of all employments. To praise God is the?
incessant employment of all the angels in heaven. To
praise God must be our eternal exercise. Let us this
instant, on the spot, begin to reduce this new plan of
conversation to practice. Let us cry, with blessed
spirits. Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts : and
let these first fruits of holy conversation consecrate all
the remainder of life. God grant us this grace. To
Father, Son, and Spirit, be honour and glory for ever '
Amen.

SEUMOl^f

SERMON IX

The Duty of giving Alrn^.

Luke xi. 41.

Give Alms of such things as you have.

I'lUR churches are houses of God : places where he
bestows his favours in richest profusion. Indeed
his omnipresence cannot be confined ; heaven, and the
heaven of heavens cannot contain him, ,the whole uni-
verse is the theatre of his liberality. It is, however,
in his churches that he affords the most distinguishing
proofs of his presence, and opens his most magnificent
treasures. Hence Solomon, after he had erected that
superb palace described in the first book of kings, ad-
dressed this prayer to God, ** May thine eyes be open
toward this house night and day, even toward the
j)lace of which thou hast said. My name shall be there.
^Vhen thy people Israel shall pray toward this place,
when they are smitten down before the enemy ; when
heaven is shut, and there is no rain ; when there be in
the land famine, pestilence and blasting ; when they
pray towards this place, when they spread forth their
hands towards this house, then hc^ir thou in -heaven,

thy

230 The Duti/ of giving Alms.

thy dwelling-place," 1 Kings, viii. 27,29, kc. Let us
not imagine all these prerogatives were confined to
the temple of Jerusalem. They are in our churches.
Always when we assemble in this place, we conduct
you to the tribunal of God, and say to you, in the lan-
guage of eternal wisdom, " Ho, every one that thirst-
eth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money,
come ye, buy and eat ; buy wine and milk without
money and without price," Isa. Iv. 1.

To-day, christians, this house changes its appear-
ance. It is no more a superb palace, the seat of
riches and abundance. It is an alms-house. It is,
if I may be allowed to say so, a general hospital, in
which are assembled all those poor, all those indigent
widows and destitute orphans, all those famished old
people, who were born in your provinces, or who,
through the calamities of the times, have been driven
to your coasts, and permitted to reside here. What a
sight ! To-day God takes the place of man, and man
that of God. God asks and man answers. God begs,
and man bestows, God sets before us heaven, grace,
and glory ; and from his high abode, where he dwells
among the praises of the blessed, he solicits your chari-
ty, and says to you, by our mouth, *• Give alms of such
things as you have."

What opportunity more proper can we have to
preach charity to you ? For several weeks these arches
have resounded with the greatest benev6lence that was
ever heard of."* Your preachers have fixed your atten-
tion on that great sacrifice by which men are reconciled
to God, so that if we be so happy to-day as to touch
your hearts, there will be a harmony betvreen love
and charity, between the Creator and the creature.
*' The heavens will hear the earth, and the earth will
Ivear the heavens," Hos. ii. 22. Heaven will say to the
faithful soul, " Behold the Lamb of God, vvhich taketh
.j^>^- ay tlic sins of the vv^orld," John i. 29. and the faithful

soul,

* Tlio Weeks of Lent.

The Duty of giving Alms. 281

i«oul, properly affected with gratitude, will reply, " O
-God, my goodness extendetli not to thee, hut to the
saints that are in the earth," Psal. xvi. 23. and will
pour upon the feet of Jesus Christ that ointment which
cannot he put upon the head of Christ Jiimself. jMy
brethren assist our feehle efforts. And thou, O God,
who art love itself, animate every part, exQvj period,
every expression of this discourse, so that ail our
hearers may become disciples of love ! Amen.

" Give alms of such things as you have;" these are the
words of our text, the gospel of this day. We will
not detain you in comparing the words of our trans-
lation with those of the original, in order to justify
our interpreters. Some expositors think the text if.
not an exhortation to charity, but a censure on the
Pharisees for their notion of it. After the pharisees
had obtained great sums by rapine and extortion, they
endeavoured to conceal, yea to embeilish their crimes
hy alms-deeds. According to these interpreters, Jesu§
Christ only intended to condemn these infamous prac-
tices, so that instead of reading tlic words, as we do^
*•' give alms of such things as ye have/' we ought to
read them, " Ye give alms of such things as you have^
and ye suppose all things are clean to you."

But this interpretation, which is in itself a strik-
ing truth, ought, however, to be rejected, as neither
l}eing agreeable to the scope of the place, nor the
literal sense of the words, which are foUov/ed by a
precept, nor to ancient versions, nor to the folIoAvin^
words, " all things shall he clean to you," which carries
in it the nature of a promise, and which must there-
fore be naturally Joined to a })reccpt.

Let us then, retain the sense of our version, and let
us take the words for an order of our iMaster prescrib-
ing charity. He addressed this order to the pharisees,
and in them to all christians. The pharisees were a
class of men, who loved shovvy virtues, and who
thought by discharging small duties to make amends
for the omission of great and important ones. Jesus

Christ

9S2 The Duty of giving Alms,

Christ reproves them in tliis chapter ; " Ye, phariseqs,
make clean the outside of the cup and the platter ; but
your inward part is full of ravening and wickedness.''
They tithed mint and rue, and all manner of herbs, but
they neglected charity. On another occasion we have
observed, that they resembled some modern christians,
who put on the air of piety, lift their eyes to heaven,
besprinkle our churches with tears, utter their souls
in perpetual sighs and complaints, and incessantly cry
religion ! religion ! but who know charity only by the
pain they feel when it is mentioned to them.. " Ye,
pharisees, make clean the outside of the cup and tho
platter ; but your inward part is full of ravening and
wickedness. But rather," rather than put on all these
airs of piety, rather than affect an ignorant zeal, rather
than practise exactness in trifles, " give alms of such
thingi as you have." Charity is the center where all
virtues meet. " O man, v/hat doth the Lord require
of thee,, but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk
humbly with thy God?" " Though I speak with the
tongue of men and angels, though I give my body to
be burned, though I have all faith so that I could re-
move mountains," and, we may add, though I should
receive the communion every day of my life, though I
fast every week, though I burn with the zeal of a se-
raph, yet if *' I have not charity, I am become as
sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal !" Micah vi. 8.
1 Cor. xiii. I , <Scc.

But these reflections are too vague, let us be more
particular. We will divide this discourse into two
parts. In the first, we will recommend (ilms-giving
by making an eiilogium on benevolence, which ought
to be the principle of it. In the second part we will
make some particular observations on alms-giving it-
self.

J. An eulogium on benevolence shall be our first
part. We consider this virtue in several diflerent
^'iews, ]. As it regarcb society^ 2, As it respects
* ' religion

The Duty of giving Af^ins. 23$

-religion. 3. As it influences death. 4. As it regards
judgment. ,5. As it respects heaven. And,1astly, as
it regards God himself. Benevolence is the happi-
ness of society, and the essence of religion. It triumphs
over the horrors of death, and pleads for us before
that terrible tribunal at which we must be judged.
Benevolence is the bond of celestial intelligences,
the brightest ray of their glory, and the chief article
of their felicity. Benevolence is the image of* God
Jiimself, and the expression of his essence. So that
to practise the duty of charity, to give alms from
this principle, is to be a worthy citizen, a good chris-
■tian, chearful in death, absolved froni guilt, and a
member of the church triumphant. To give alms
is to return to our center, to resemble God, from
whom our souls derived their existence. Let us exa-
mine each of these articles.

1 . Benevolence constitutes the happiness of society ;
to give alms is to perform the duty of a good citizen.
In order to comprehend this, it will be only neces^
sary to examine the principle of actio^i in him who
refuses to assist the poor according to his ability, and
the miseries to which society would be reduced were
each member of it to act on the same principle. The
principle of a man, who does not contribute to assist
the poor according to his power, is, that he who
possesses temporal benefits, ought to hold them only
for himself, and that he ought never to impart them
to others except when his own interest retjuires him
to do so ; and that when his own interest is uncon-
nected with the condition of his neighbour, he ought
not to be affected with his misfortunes. Now it is
certain no principle can be more contrary to public
good. What would become of society were all the
members of it to reason in this manner ? Should the
statesman say, I will make use of my knowledge and
experience to arrive at the pinnacle of honour, and
to conduct niiy f^^milv thither ; but, when the interest

of

'^234^ The Duty of giving Alms.

of my country is unconnected with mine, I will abaiv
don the helm, and give myself no concern to procure
advantages for other people ! What if a general should
say, I will employ all my courage and strength to
surmount eveiy obstacle in the way of my fortune ;
but should the enemy offer me advantages greater
than I can procure of my country, I will turn my
hand, and destroy the country which 1 now defend !
What if the minister should say, I will endeavour only
to save myself, or I will study only to display my talents;
but when this end cannot be obtained, I will harden
my heart against perplexed minds, distressed con-
sciences, people dying in despair, and I will neglec<;
every duly, which has only God and a miserable
wretch for spectators !

Extend this principle of self-interest. Apply it to
different conditions of life, and you will perceive it
leads from absurdity to absurdity, and from crime to
crime. You will see, that he who makes it the rule
of his actions, violates all the laws which mankind
made for one another, when they built cities and
formed states. In. such establishments men make tacit
conditions, that they will succour one another, that
they will reward some services by other services, and
that vrhen any are rendered incapable of serving others,
or of maintaining themselves, they should not be left
to perish, but that each should furnish such relief as he
himself woukl wish to receive in the same case.

If a rich man, therefore, refuse to assist the poor,
he violates this primitive law, and consequently saps
the foimdation of society. As good politicians, we
9ught to proceed rigorously a,<yainst a miser, he should
be lodged among animals of another species, and such
pleasures as arise from a society of men should be
refused to Iiim, because he refuses to contribute to
tJienji, arid lives only for himself. For want of hu-
man law?, there is I kno-w not what makdictioii affixed
in tho'e vv iio are destitute of charity. They are con-

sidere4

2 Vz e Dutij of giving A Ims. ' 235

gklered with horror. Their insensibility is a subject
©[■public conversation. People give one another notice
to be upon their guard with such men, and to use
caution in dealing with people of principles so odious,
-T'or do not deceive yourselves ; do not think to im-
pose long on the public ; do not imagine your turpi-
tude can be long hid, *• there is nothing covered that
shall not be revealed," Matt. x. 26. We know well
enough how to distinguish a charitable man fi'om a
miser. A note of infamy is set upon the last, and
people say to one another, See, observe that old man,
who alone possesses a fortune sufficient for ten families,
see how avariciously he accumulates money, and how-
cruelly he refuses to assist the poor witli the least
particle of what death is jvist going to take from him !
See that proud ambitious woman, Avho displays her
vanity with so much parade in the sight of the whole
world, see how she makes the poor expiate the guilt
of her pride, by feeding her vanity with what ought
to buy them bread. Thus people talk. They do
more, they reckon, they calculate, tliey talk the matter
over at large in public company, one relates the his-
tory of the miser, and another makes quaint remarks, •
and all together form an odious portrait, which every
man abhors.

2. Consider benevolence in regard to religio?!, and
particularly in regard to the christian religion, of
which we affirmed it was the essence. In what light
soever you view Jesus Christ, the teacher of the gos-
pel, you will fmd him displaying this virtue. Consider
him as appointed to save you, observe his birth, his
preaching, his actions, his preparation for death, his
death itself ; in all these different views he recommends
charity to you.

Consider Jesus as appointed for salvation. What
inclined God to form the design of saving the world ?
Was it any eminent quality in man ? Were we not
children ofuraflu pxe(*ra])le objects in the eyes of tlie

Lord?

^36 The Duiij of giving Alms.

I^ord ? Was it any service t-endered to God ? Alas ! we
'vcre enemies in our minds by wicked works. Col. i. 21.
Wiis it an> jirospect of retribution ? But our goodness
cxtendetb not unto him, Psal. xvi, 2. Is not all-suffi,-
*.'iency one of his attributes ? What then inclined God
to lorni a plan of redemption ? Ask Jesus Christ. H^p
will inform } ou, '* God so loved the world that he gavi? •
his Son,'" Jolm iii. 16. Ask tiie apostle Paul. He
ivill till you, '* It Mas for his great lovi} wliprewith
he loved us,'' Eph. ii. 4.

Tlio birth of Jesus Christ preaeheth .love to us>; for
why tliistlesli? why this blood? why this incarnation?
In general it was for our salvation. My brethren, have
Ton ever vreighcd these words of St Paul ? " As the
children ar>j })artakers of flesh and blood," — (the scrip-
ture contains elevated sentiments which can never bp
enough siudied. Divines distinguish senses of scrip-
ture iulo literal and mystical; we add a third, a subliniie
sense, and this passage is an example,) — " As the chil-
iiW'w are partakers of flesh and blood, he also hims,elf
Xi)ok ]):irt of the same, that he uiiglii he anierciful and
fuithiul hig]i-})riest. For in that he liimself hath suf-
fered being teni|)ted, he is able to succour them that
are tem])ted," ileb, ^i. 14, <[\;c, Observe these words,
*• he took part of flesh and blood that he miglit be mer-
ciful.'' What ! could he xiol be meicifnl without flesh
and blood ? "•' In that he hath suffered being tempted,
ke is able to succour tiiem that are temptecl." Mow !
Is not Jesus Christ, as I^ord of the universe, able to
deliver us from teniptations ? True, he is Almighty.
His <:om])assion incline^ him to succour u-s. Yet, Jt
»>hould seeni, according to Si Paul, that something
was wanting to hip qnuiipotence. It seems as if uni-
versal knowledge was not sufficient to inform hirp
J'ully of the excess of ouj* miseries. What was \^ ant-
ing was to know our ills by experiinental feeling. This
knowledge is incompatible with deity, deity is imj)as-
sibie; and it was to supply this, and to accpiire th;s
kilo^^ ledge, that God made known to the Avorld the

iinheard-

The Dulj/ of giving Aims.- §3?

6Mie<ird-of mystery of God manifest in the Jksh^ sb that
the Saviour might be inclined to relieve miseries which
he himself had felt, " He also himself took jmrt of
flesh and blGod, thjtt he iiiii^ht be mercifid. For in'
that he himself hath suffered beinj^ tempted, he is able
to succour them that afe tempted."

Jesus Christ in his doctrine hath taught ni benevo-
lence, for to what but love does all his doctrine tend?
What is the new commandment he gave us ? ** That
we should love one another," John xiii. 2 j^. What i^^
•* pure atid undefiled religion before God and fhe Fa-
ther ?" Is it not " to visit the fatlierless and the wi-
dows ?" James i. 27. What one thing was lacking to*
the young man who had not committed adulteiy, had
not killed, had not defrauded ? Was it not " to sell
his goods, and give to the poor?" I\Iatt. xix. 21. The
whole ^stem of Christianity tends to charity ; the
doctrines' to cliarity ^ the duties to charity ; the pro-
mises to charity ; tlie ordinances w hrch assemble us in
<5ne house, as members of one family, w here we eat
at one table, as children of one father, all tentl to esta-
blish the dominion of charity.

The actions of Jesus Christ preach charity to us,
for all his life wa^ employed in exercises of benevo-
lence. What zeal for the salvation of his neighbours !
Witness his powerful exhortations, his tender prayers,
his earnest entreaties* What compassion for the mi-
series of others ! Witness his emotions, when *• he i>dvr
the multitudes faintetl, and were scattered abroad, a>^
sheep having no shepherd," Matt. ix. S6\ witness the
tears he shed at the grave of Lazarus, and over un-
grateful Jerusalem. We have, in a few words, an
abridgment of the most amiable life tlmt ever v^^as :
** He went about doing good," Aetii %. 38.

Jesus preached charity in his preparation for death.
You know what troubles agitated his mind at the
approach of this terrible period. You know what-

«tiffereTiee there is between his death m\d our death.

*, -

e5s The Duty of giving Alms.

As we draw near to death we approach a throne of
grace ; but Christ went to a tribunal of vengeance.
We go to our father ; he went to his judge. We are
responsible for our own sins ; but upon the head of this
victim lay all the crimes of the people of God. Amidst
to many formidable objects, what filled the mind of^
Jesus Christ ? Love, " Now, holy Father, I am jio
more in the world," said he, " but these are in thd
world, keep through thine own name those whom thou
hast given me, that they may be one as we are," John
xvii. 11. As if he had said, Father, take me for the
victim of thy displeasure, let me feel all its strokesy
give me the dregs of the cup of thine indignation to
drink ; provided my beloved disciples be saved, mf
joy will be full.

In fine, Jesus Christ taught us benevolence by hi^
death ; for " greater love than this hath no man, that
a man lay down his life for" his friends," John xv. 13.
There was neither a wound in his body, nor an inci^
sion in his hands or his feet, nor a drop of his blood
that was shed, which did not publish benevolence. Hi^
love sup}>orted him against the fears of death, the ter-
rors of divine justice, and the rage of hell. His love
extended even to his executioners ; and, less affected
with his own pains than with the miseries to which
their crimes exposed them, he fetched, (it was one of
his last sighs,) a sigh of love, and ready to expire, saidy
" Father forgive them, they know not what they do,"
Luke xxiii. 34.

Such is the gospel. Such is your religion. Now I
ask, my brethren, can a man imagine himself a disciple
of such a master, can he aspire at such noble promises/
can he admit such truths, in one word, can he be a^
christian and not be charitable ? Have we not reason
to affirm, that benevolence is the essence of christia-^
nitv, the center to which the lines of all christian vir^"
tues tend ?

3. A third reflection, that is, that benevolenc^
frhimphs over the liorrors of death, ought to have

great

The Duty of glvmg Alms. ^S9

^reat weight with us. A -meditation of death is one
of the most powerful of all motives to Lniard us against
femptations, agreeably to a fine saying of the son of
Sirach^ ** Whatsoever thou takest in hand, remember
the end, and thou shalt never do amiss/' Ecclus. vii.
36. This thought hath a peculiar influence in regard
to charity.

In effect, what is death ? I consider it principally in
two views, first, as a general shipwreck, in which oiir
fortunes, titles, and dignities are lost. " We brought
nothing into this worlds and it is certain we can carry
nothing out," 1 Tim. vi. 7. Next, I consider it as tlie
time of examination and judgment, for " it is appointed
to all men once to die, and after that the judgment/'
Heb. ix. 27. I'he moment of death is a fatal period^
ill which are united the excesses of our youth, the dis-
tractions of our manhood, the avarice of our old age,
our pride, our ambition, our impurity, our covetous-
ness, our treacheries, our perjuries, our calumnies, our
blasphemies, our iukewarmness, our ])rofanations ; all
these crimes will form one black cloud, heavy and
hanging ready to burst on our heads.

These are two just views of death, and ideas of
these make, if I may be allowed to say so, the two
most fonuidable weapons of the king of (errors, the
most terrible of all terrible things. But the benevo--
lent man is covered from these attacks.

The charitable man need not fear a deprivation of
his fortune, for in this respect he does not die'. He
luith prevented the ravages of death by disburdening
himself of his riches. lie hath eradicated the love of
the world. He hath given to the poor what would
otherwise have fed avarice. Yet, let me recollect my-
self, the charitable man doth not impoverish himself by^
his benevolence. He hath sent his fortune before him.
These are scriptural ideas. " He that hath pity upon
the poor, lendeth unto the Lord, and that which he
hath given, will he pay him again. Make to yourselves,
friends of the mammoit of unrighteousness, ih3t when

ye

^40 The Dufy of giving Ahns.

je fail, Ihey may receive you into everlasting habita-
tions," Prov. xix. 17. Luke xvi. 9. At death the chris-
tian beholds these friends opening' their amis to re-
ceive him. I recollect here an epitaph said to be en-
graven on the tomb of Atolus of Rheiifts, He exported
his fortune before him into heaven^ he is gone thither to
enjoy it. What a fine epitaph, my brethren ! Happy
he who, instead of such pompous titles as the vanity
of the living puts on the tombs of the dead, under pre-
tence of honouring' the merit of the deceased, instead"
of such nauseous inscriptions ats feed pride among
bones, worms, and putrefaction^ objects so jiropcr
to teach us humility, happy he who has as a right
to such tin epitaph as that just now mentioned !
He expoi'ted his fortune before him into heaven by his
eharitieSy he is gone thither to enjoy it. Happy he
who, instead of splendid funeral processions, and a:
long train of hired attendants, who seem less disposed
to lament death than to increase the numbers of the
dead, happy he whose funeral is attended and la-
mented by the poor ! Happy he whose funeral ora-
tion is spoken by the wretched in sobs and sighs
and expressions like these, I wa^ naked, and he clothed
me, I was hungry, and he fed me, I lived a dying life,
and he was the happy instrument of providence to
support me \

A charitable man need not fear death considered
as a time of account. What saith the scripture con-
cernin"" charitv in refi'ard to our sins ? " It covereth ar
multitude," 1 Pet. iv. 8. Daniel giveth this counsel to
a guilty king, *' Break off thine iniquities by shewing
mercy to the poor," chap, iv.27. Not that our scriptures
authorise a sacrilegious commentary, such as some sin-
ners make upon these passages. Under pretence that
it is said, charity covereth a multitude of sins, or that
it 2}ids away our sins, (the sense of the first is dis-^
puted, and we will notnov/ explain it), uiider this ppe-
tt^rice, I say, some christians pretend to make a tacit

coliipaet

The Duti) of giving Alms. 2% 1

compact with God. The import of this contract is,
that the sinner should be allowed by God, for the sake
of his alms-deeds, to persist in sin. An unjust man,
who retains the property of others, will give a trifle to
the poor, and, under pretence that charity cover eth a
multitude of sins, will hold himself free from the law of
restitution. A debauchee will give alms, and, under
pretence that charity covereth a multitude of sins, will
think himself authorised to lead an unclean life. Great
God ! is this the idea we form of thy majesty ! If these
be the motives of our virtues, whence do our vices
spring ? Shall we pretend with presents to blind thine
eyes, eyes of purity itself ! Would we make thee, O
God ! an accomplice in our crimes? and have we forgot
that prohibition so remarkable in thy law, " thou shall
not bring the hire of a whore, or the price of a dog, into
the house of the Lord ?" Deut. xxiii. 18. It is, however,
very certain that charity disarms death, in regard to
that account which we are about to give of the manner
in which we have disposed our property, for charity is
the least equivocal mark of our Christianity, and the
least suspicious evidence of our faith.

I do not know whether in the perfect enjoyment of
health, and the pleasures of life, you enter into these
reflections; but when you think yourselves ready to
expire, you implore our assistance, and require us to
comfort you. We seldom succeed much on these occa-
sions. Miserable comforters are we all. Religion
with all its evidences, grace with all its charms, the
promises of the gospel with all their magnificence,
are generally insufficient to administer consolation.
Christians, you must certainly die : arm us then to-day
against yourselves. Put into our hands to-day an
argument against that fear of death which will shortly
seize you. Give weight to our ministry, and by dis-
arming death by your charities, put us into a condition
to shew you death disarmed at the end of your life.

4. Charity provides against the terrors with which
vol., IV. Q aii

24^ The Duty of giving Alms,

an apprehension of the last' judgtnent ought to inspire
us. Jesus Christ hath furnished us with this idea, for
thus he speaks in the twenty-fifth chapter of St Mat-
thew, " When the Son of man shall eome in his glory,
and all the holy angels with him, he shall say unto them
on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my fa tlier, inhe-
rit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation
of the world. For I was an hungred, and ye gave lue
meat ; I \yas thirsty, and ye gave me drink. Inasmuch
as ye have done it unto oi5e of the least of these my
brethren, yc have done it unto me," ver. 32, &c.

There is another of the passagesof which we just now
spoke, and which ought to be understood in a sense al-
together sublime. Jesus Chriist personates the poor,
and takes on himself, if I may speak so, all their obli-'
gations. What is the reason of this conduct ? If the
poor be so dear to him, why does he leave them to suf-
fer ; and if he leave them to suffer, why does he say
they are so dear to him ? My brethren, this is intend-
ed to exercise our faith, and to purify our love. Should
Christ come to us in pomp and glory, surrounded witb
devouring fire, with all the ensigns of his majesty, at-
tended by seraphims, and by thousand thousands mi-
nistering unto him ; should he come in this manner
to ask of lis a cup of water, a piece of bread, a little
money, which of us would refuse to grant his request ?
But this mark of our love would be suspicious. It
w Quid proceed fi'om emotions excited by the splendour^
of his majesty, rather than from genuine love. No
wonder a king is respected in his court, and upon his
throne ; majesty dazzles, a^d ensigns of supreme digni-
ty excite emotions in all the powers of our souls. But
should this king survive some disgrace^ should he be
banished fi'om his kingdom, anj abandoned by his
subjects, then his real friends woiikl be discovered,
and he would prepare them a thousand rewards. This
is an image of Jesus Christ. In vain prostrating our-
selves at the foot of his throne, we say to him a thou-
sand times over. Lord, thou knowesi that wq love ihee.

Perhaps:

The Duty of giving Alms. 24^

Perhaps this profession of esteem may proceed more
from a love of the benefits, than of the benefactor who
bestows them. Banished from his heavenly court in
the persons of his members, forsaken by his subjects,
covered with rags, and lodged in an hospital, he comes
to try his real friends, solicits their compassion, pre-
sents his miseries to them, and tells them at the same
time, that his condition will not be always thus despica-
ble, that he shall be soon re-established on his throne,
and that he will then recompense their care with eternal
felicity ; this is the meaning of the words just now read,
** I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat, I was thir-
sty and' ye gave me drink." Grand motive to charity !
Immense weight with a soul the least animated with
ingenuousness and fervour ! I am not surprised, how-
ever, that motives so strong in themselves are frequent-
ly ineffectual with us. Always confined in a sphere of
sensible objects, taken up with the present moment,
contracted within the limits of our own small circle,
we never look forward to futurity, never think of that
great day in which God will judge the world in righte-
ousness, and fix our eternal doom. But who is there,
who is there, that in the presence of all mankind, in
the presence of all the angels of heaven, in the pre-
sence of the whole universe, and in the oresence of God
himself, can bear this reproof from the mouth of the
Son of God, " I Vv as an hungred, and ye gave me no
meat, I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink !"

5. Let us consider charity in regard to heaven it-
self. We s^y benevolence is a celestial virtue, and
we propose this fifth reflection to you, in order to en-
force the necessity, and to display the excellence of
charity. Understand, my brethren, all the other
virtues which the gospel prescribes to us, are cha-
racterized by a mortification, which obliges us to enter
into our nothingness, and reminds us of our turpitude
and misery. They are not absolute positive excel-
lenriesv they are remedies for our ills. For example,

'2 faith

244" The Duty of giving Alms

faith supposes our ignorance ; hope supposes our pover-
ty ; patience implies arfflictions ; repentance supposes
sin. All public worship, prayer, humiliation, fasting,
sacraments, all imply that we are gross and carnal.
All this will have no place in heaven. In heaven
there will be no faith, no hope, no prayer, no patience.
In heaven there will be neither humiliation, nor fasting,
nor sacraments. Charity, rising out of love, is superior
to all other exercises, it hath an excellence proper to
itself; love will follow us to heaven, and heaven is
the abode of love. There God, who is love, establish-
eth his empire ; there perfect love reigns ; there is seen
the ineffable love which the father hath for his Son ;
there is found that incomi)rehensible union which
unites the three divine persons who are the object of
Our worship ; there Jesus Christ, our mystical head^
unites himself with his members ; there is displayed
the love of God to glorified saints, with whom he shares
his felicity and glory ; there the love of glorified saints
to God is made manifest ; there are seen those tender
ties which unite the inhabitants of heaven to each
other, hearts aiming at the same end, burning with
the same fire, enlivened with the same zeal, and
joining in- one voice to celebrate the author of their
existence ; there, then, benevolence is a heavenly vir-
tue ; it constitutes the felicity of the place. Love i.s
the most perfect of all pleasures. The more the Deity
approacheth his saints by an effusion of this love, and
the more be communicates the delights of it to them,
the more the saints approach God by a retiu'n of love ;
and the nearer they draw to the source of happiness,
the happier they render themselves and one another
by such communications.

Let us not lightly pass over this reflection. It is
good to be here. " He that hath ears to hear, let him
hear," JMatt. xi. 15. He that hath the most refined
sense, the quickest invention, the most noble imagina-
tion, let him conceive a society united by the purest

principles,

The Duty of giving Alms. 245

principles, and cemented by the firmest virtue. This
is paradise, this is love. This is charity ; charity that
gives no alms, because none in heaven are indigent,
but charity which goes so far as to give all, to give
lip happiness, to give self, to sacrifice self for other
objects of love ; witness the presents which came from
heaven ; v/itness the description of this holy place ;
witness God, who gave us his Son, his only Son, the
tenderest olj>ject of his love ; witness the Son, who
gave himself ; witness the blessed angels, who encamp
round about us to protect and defend us ; witness the
triumphs of glorified saints, who rejoice over one sinner
that repenteth, as if more interested in his happiness
tiian in their own ; witness the crovv-ns v/hich the saints
cast before the throne of the Lamb, resigning, as it
were, in his favour their felicity and glory ; witness
tliese expressions of love, which we shall one day un-
derstand by an experimental enjoyment of them, " his
banner over me is love. Turn away thine eyes from
me, for they have overcome me. Set me as a seal
upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm ; for love is
strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave; the coals
thereof are coals of f.re, which have a most vehement
ilame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can
the floods drown it," Cant. ii. 4*. and vi. 5.

After having elevated our meditation to heaven,
we return to you, my brethren. We blush at what
we are doing to-day. We are ashamed to preach,
complain, and exhort. Why ? are we endeavouring
to engage you to sacrifice your fortunes, to renounce
your lives, to become accursed for your brethren ? Are
ue trying to induce you to perform some heroical and
uncommon act of love ? No. Alas ! Alas ! We are
obliged to exhort, and complain, and preach, to obtain
of you a little bit of b,read, a few tattered clothes, a
little small share of what you give with gxcat profu-
sion to the world. Good God ! What christians are you!
Is this tlie rliurch ! Are vou the household of faith?

Ay>

ii?46 The Duty of giving Alms,

Are we preaching to citizens of heaven ? Are we
knocking at the doors of hearts that believe a life
eternal ? But how will you enter into that abode witli
such unfeeling souls ? Would you go to interrupt the
communion of saints? Would 3^ou go to disorder
heaven, and to disconcert angels ? And do you not
perceive, that if you do not put on bowels of merciesj
you banish yourselves from an abode in which all
breathe charity and love ?

In fine, We consider charity in regard to God him-
self. Love is the essence of Deity. God is love. So
an apostle hath defined it. Here reflections rise from
every part to establish our principle. Nature, provi-
dence, society, the church, heaven, earth, elements,
all preach to us the love of God ; all preach to us tho
excellence of charity, which makes us resemble God,
in the most lovely of his attributes. It would give
us pleasure to enlarge on each of these articles, were
it not necessary, after having made some general re-
flections on benevolence, which is the principle of
alms-giving, to make some particular reflections on
alms-deeds themselves.

11. My brethren, were it only necessary in this dis-
course to give you high ideas of benevolence, and to
convince you in general of the necessity of giving alms,
we would here put a period to our sermon. But can
we be ignorant of what passes on these occasions ?
Each satisfies himself with a vague approbation of
such truths. Each is convinced that we ought to be
charitable, and that the poor should be relieved ; but
each is content with himself, and, examining less
what he gives than whether he gives, persuades him-
self that he does enough, and that nobody ought to
complain of him. It is then necessary, before we
finish this discourse, to enter into some detail, and to
prescribe some rules, by which we may pretty well
know what each is obliged to give in alms. We will

not

The Duty cf giving Alms. 247

not determine with exact precision on this article..
We are fully convinced, that, were we to conduct
jou froni principle to principle to an exact demonstra-
tion of what the gospel requires of you in this case,
we should speak of thing's which would make you
suspect that we took pains to advance unheard-of
maxims, and to preach paradoxes.

We will then content ourselves with proposing five
considerations to you ; or, to speak more plainly, we
will produce five calculations, to which we beg your
attention, and, after we have spoken of them, we will
leave every man's conscience at liberty to draw conse-
quences. The first calculation is that of the charities
which God prescribed to the Jews under the law.
The second is that of the charities of the primitive
christian church. The third is that of our superfluous
expences. The fourth is that of the number of our
poor. The last is that of the funds appropriated to
their support.

I. The first calculation is that of the alms which
God prescribe<:l to the Jews, and in this we include
all that they were indispensibly obliged to furnish for
religion. This calculation may well make christians
blush, as it convinces us of tliis melaBcholy truth,
tliat, though our religion excels all religions in the
world, yet its excellence lies in the gospel, and not in
the lives of those who profess it.

1. The Jews were obliged to abstain froiii all the
fruits that growed on trees new planted the first
three years. These first fruits were accounted uncir-
cumcision. It was a crime for the planters to appror
priate tliem, Lev. xix. 23.

2. The fruits of the fourth year were devoted to
the Lord. They were called hohj, to praise the Lord
withal. Either they were sent to .Jerusalem, or being
valued they vrere redeemed by a sum equivalent paid
to the priest ; so that these people did not begin to re-
f?^ive the profits of their fruit trees till the fifth vear.

S. The

248 The Duty of giving Alms.

S. The Jews were obliged every year to offer to God
the « first of all the fruits of the earth," Deut. xxvi. 2.
When the head of a family walked in his garden, and
perceived which tree first bore fruit, he distinguished
it by tying on a thread, that he might know it when
the fruits v/ere ripe. At that time each father of a
family put that fruit into a basket. At length all the
heads of families, who had gathered such fruit in one
town, were assembled, and deputies were chosen by
them to carry them to Jerusalem. These offerings
were put upon an ox crowned with flowers, and the
commissioners of the convoy went in pomp to Jeru-
salem, singing these words of the hundred twenty-
second psalm, " I was glad^ when they said unto me.
Let us go into the house of the Lord." When
they arrived at the city, they sung these words,
** Our feet shall stand w ithin thy gates^ O Jerusalem."
At length they went to the temple, each carrying his
offering on his shoulders, the king himself not ex-
cepted, again singing, " Lift up your heads, O ye
gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors. Lift
up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye
everlasting doors," Psal. xxiv. 7.

4. The Jews were obliged to leave the corn on their
lands ends for the use of the poor ; and, in order to
avoid the frauds which might be practised in this case,
it was determined to leave the sixtieth part of the
land as a just proportion for the poor. Lev. xix. 9.

5. The ears of corn, which fell from the hand in
harvest time, were devoted to the same purpose ; and
if you consult Josephus "^", he will tell you, that the
Jews held themselves obliged by this command of
God, not only to leave the popr such ears of corn as
fell by chance, but to let fall some freely and on pur-
pose for them to glean.

6. The Jews were obliged to give the fortieth part
f>f tlieir produce to the priest, at least it is thus the

Sanhedrim

* Anliq. Jucl. cap. 8. lib. iv.

The Dufij of giving Ahm. 249

Sanhedrim explained the law written in the eighteenth
chapter of Deuteronomy.

7. They v/ere obhged to pay a tenth to maintain
the Levites, Numb. xvii. 16.

8. The produce of the earth every seventh year be-
longed to the poor, at least the owner had no more
right than j)eople who had no property, Lev. xxv. 23.
This command is express, and the Jews have such an
idea of this precept, that they pretend the captivity in
Babylon was a punishment for the violation of it. To
this belong these words, '• The land shall enjoy her
sabbaths as long as it lieth desolate, and ye be in your
enemy's land ; even then shall the land rest, and en-
joy her sabbaths," chap, xxxvi. 34.

9. All debts contracted among this people w^ere re-
leased at the end of every seven years ; so that a debtor,
who could not discharge his debt within seven years,
was at the end of that time released from all obliga-
tion to discharge it, 2 Chron. xxxvi. 21. Deut. xv. 2.

To all these expences add extraordinaries for sacri-
fices, oblations, journies to Jerusalem, half shekels to
the sanctuary, and so on, and you will find, that God
imposed upon his people a tribute amounting to nearly
half their income *. What is worthy of consideration
is, that the modern Jevrs, as you may convince your-
selves by conversing with them, not being able literal-
ly to discharge a great number of precepts, which
originally related to their ancestors, are far from being
lax in relieving their poor ; so that if there are as many
.Tews in a place as form what they call a congregation
(and ten they say are sufiicicnt) they appoint trea-
surers to collect charities for the poor. Lest avarice,
prevailing over principle, should prevent the discharge
of this duty, they have judges who examine their a])i-
lity, and who tax them at about a tenth of their in-
come, so that one of the greatest offences which Ave
^ive them, and which prejudices them against Chris-
tianity,
* Episcopins Inst. Theol. lib. iiL cap. 5.

350 The V>uty of giving Alms,

tianity, is the little charity christians have for the
poor. A scandal, by the way, and to your confusion
let it be spoken, which would undoubtedly increase,
if they were better acquainted with you, and if they
saw that affected dissipation, which prevents many of
you from seeing the hands held out to receive alms for
the poor at the doors of our churches.

This is the first calculation we have to propose to
you. Having- proposed it to your examination we
will detennine nothing-. One reflection, however,
must ]iot be omitted, that is, that the gospel is an
economy infinitely more noble, and more excellent
than the law. The gospel, by aboliehing the levi-
tical ceremonies, hath enforced the morality of jur-
daism much more effectually, and particularly what
regards charity. Jesus Christ hath fixed nothing on
l.his article. He hath contented himself by enjoining
us in general " to love our neighbour as ourselves," not
being willing to set any other bounds to our love for
;iim than those which we set to our love for ourselves,
if then under an economy so gross, if under an eco-
nomy in which differences were made between Jews
and Gentiles, nation and nation, people and people^
(which always restrains charity,) God required his
people to give, to say the least, a third part of their
income, what, what are the obligations of christians !
I repeat it again, were I to pursue these reflections,
I should certainly be taxed with advancing unheardr
of maxims, and preaching paradoxes.

] 1, The second calculation we have to propose to
you is that of the charities of the pnmitive christians.
The great master had so fully imparted his own cha-
ritable disposition to his disciples, that, according to
St Luke, " all that believed had all things common ; and
f^old their j)ossessions and goods, mid parted them to all
men, as every man had need," ch. ii. 41. and Acts ii. 44,
A5, In llio time of Tcrlullian christian charity was pro-
verbial.

The Duiy of giving Alms, Q51

verbial, and it was said of them, " See how they love
one another ;"-^' insomuch that the heathens, surprised
to see an union so affectionate, ascribed it to super-
natural causes. They said, christians had some un-
known characters imprinted on. their bodies, and these
characters had the virtues of inspiring tliem with love
for one another f . Lucian, that satyrical writer, who
died in the reign of Marcus Aurelius, in a discourse
on the death of the philosopher Peregrinus, who
burnt himself at the Olympic games, Lucian, I say,
by attempting to satirize christians, passed a high en-
comium on them. " It is incredible, says he, what
pains and diligence they use by all means to succour
one another. Their legislator made them believe
that they are all brethren, and since they have re-
nounced our religion, and worshipped their crucified
leader, they live according to his laws, and all their
riches are common i." We have also an undoubted
testimony of Julian the apostate on this article. He
was one of the greatest persecutors of the primitive
christians, and he was a better politician in the art
of persecution than either his predecessors or succes-
sors. Julian did not attack religion with open vio-
lence ; he knew, what we have seen with our own
eyes, that is, that violence inflames zeal, and that
the blood of martyrs is the seed of the church. He at-
tacked religion in another manner, and, as the cha-
rity of the primitive christians rendered Christianity
venerable, this tyrant attempted to clothe paganism
witli christian charity. Thus he wrote to a pagai»
priest. *^ Let us consider, saith he, that nothing hath
so much contributed to the progress of the superstition
of christians as their charity to strangers. I think we
ought to discharge this obligation ourselves. Esta-r
blish liospitals in every place ; for it would be a shame
for us to abandon our poor, while the Jews have

none,

* Tertul. Apol. xxxix. t Minutlu'? Felix, ^ Lucian^

;om. 2. de la mort du fil. Peregrine.

^52 The Dull/ of giving Aims.

none, and wliije the impious Galileans (thus he calls
christians) provide not only for their own poor, but
also for ours.

If you wish for observations more particular con-
cerning primitive christian charity, vve answer,

1. The primitive christians expended large sums in
propagating the faifh^ and in preaching the gospel.
They thought that the principal care of a christian,
after hrivging into captivity his own thoughts to the obe
dience of Christy was to convert others. Ecclesiastical
history gives us many exam pi e.-;, and particularly that
of St Chrysostom, mentioned by Theocioret. " He
assembled monks fu'l of zeal, and sent them to preach
the gospel in Phenicia ; and, having understood that
there were people dispersed along the banks of the
Danube v/ho thirsted for the waters of grace, lie sought
out men of ardent zeal, whom he sent to labour like
apostles in the propagation of the faith^-." I blush to
mention this example, because it recais that reproach
w hich we just now mentioned, that is, that we have
no zeal for the salvation of infidels, and that the fleets
w hich we send to the new world, are much more ani-
mated with a desire of accumulating wealth, than of
conveying the gospel to the natives.

2. The primitive christians paid a wonderful atten-
tion to the sick. They kept people on purpose for
this pious office. In the ciij of Alexandria alone, the
number v/as so great, that Theodosius v;-as obliged
to diminish it, and to fix it at five hundred ; and
when it was afterwards represented to him that the
number was unequal to the task, he increased it to
j,ix hundred, as a law in the Thecdosian code informs
;is,t 1 cannot help repeating on this occasion a beau
tifid passage of Eusebius. Speaking of a plague which
iTivnged Egypt, after he had described it, he adds,

" Many

* Tlieotl. Hist. Ecdes. v. 29, 50, S:c
'h Co']q Theod. lib. xvj. 2.

The Dutij of giving Alms. 25 S

** Many of our brethren, neglecting- their own health*
through an excess of charity have brought upon them-
selves the misfortunes and maladies of others. After
they had held in their arms the dying saints, after they
had closed their mouths and their eyes, after they
had embraced, kissed, washed, and adorned them with
their best habits, and carried them on their shoulders
to the grave, they have been glad themselves to re-
ceive the same kind offices from others who have imi-
tated their zeal and charity/-"

3. The primitive christians were very charitable in
redeeming captives. Witness St Ambrose, who was
inclined to sell the sacred utensils for that purpose.
Witness St Cyprian, who, in a letter to the bishops of
Num.idia concerning some christians taken captive by
barbarians, implores their charity for the deliverance
of these miserable people, va\A contributed towards
it more than a thousand pounds. Witness a his-
tory related by Socrates. The Romans had taken se-
ven thousand persons prisoner^ many of whom pe-
rished with hunger in their captivity. A christian
bishop named Acacius assembled his church, and ad-
dressed them in thi-j sensible and pious language: "God
needeth not, said he, neither dishes or cups, as he nei-
ther eats nor drinks ; I think it right, therefore, to
make a sale of a great part of the chiu'ch platCy and
to apply the money to the support and redemption of
captives.'' Socrates adds, that he caused the holy
utensils to be melted down, and paid the soldiers for
the ransom of the prisoners, maintained them all win-
ter, and sent them home in the spring with money to
pay the expenee of their journeyf ."

In fine, the charity of the primitive christians ap-
pears, by the \nous Jbu?idcdio?is which they made, by
the innumerable hospitals which they supported, and

above

* Euseb. Hisf. Eccles. lib. vii. cap. 22.

t Arabros. Offic. lib. ii. cap. 28. S. Cyprian Let. Ix. Edit.
Oxon. 62. Soq^^t. Hist. Eccle,^., lib^ vii. cap. 21.

U^4f The Duty of giving Alms.

above all, by the immense, and ahuost incredible, num^
ber of poor which they maintained. Observe these
woi'ds of St Chrysostom, " Consider, says he, among^
how many poor, widows, and orphans, this church
distributes the charity of one rich man ; the number
in the catalogtie is three thousand, not to mention ex-
traordinary assistances given to prisoners, people sick
in hosj)itals, strangers, leprous persons, servants of
the church, and many other persons, Avhose necessities
oblige them to apply every day, and who receive both
food and clothing*." What renders this the more re-
markable is, that the primitive christians placed their
glory in their charities. We have a famous example
in the conduct of the church of Rome in regard
to the Emperor Decius. This tyrant demanded
their treasure ; a deacon answ^ered for the whole
church, and required one day to comply with the
order of the Emperor. When the term was expired,
he assembled all the blind, and the lame, and the
^ick, that were supposed by the church, and pointing
to them, told the tyrant, " these are the riches of the
church, these its revenue and treasuref ." I have col-
lected these examples to convince you, my brethren^
that w^e have degenerated from the virtue of our an-
cestors, and that the lives of the primitive christians^
at least in this article, were a lively comment on the
doctrine of their master.

III. A third calculation, which we conjure you to
examine as christians ought, is that of your superfluous
eocpences. We do not call those expences superfluous
which are necessary to your maintenance, nor those
•U-hich contribute to the convenience and pleasure of
life, nor those which support your rank ; we do nOt
touch this part of your fortune ; we agree, that, be-
fore you think of your brethren, your countrymeiv

the

* Chrysost. Horail. Ixvi. in St Mutt. Edit rront. Due. Ixvii,
t Anibros. Oflic. lib. ii, cap. 28.

The Didij of giving Alms.

',Otf

the household of faith, you should set apart (sad neces-
sity, my brethren, which engageth us to preach to
you a morality so lax, and to ask so little, lest we
should obtain nothing) we agree, I say, that before
you think of the poor you should set apart as much
as is necessary for your maintenance to a certain de-
gree ; for your ornaments to a certain degree ; for your
amusement and appearances to a certain degree ; all
this we give up, and agree, that this part shall be sa-
cred, and that it shall be accounted a crime to touch
the least particle of it. But reckon, I beseech you,
what sums are consumed beyond all this. Cast your
eyes about this church. Endeavour to calculate the
immense sums tXat have been spent in luxury since
you laid aside that wise simplicity which your ances-
tors exemplified ; I say shice that time, for before^
this article could not have appeared in a christian ser-
mon. Let us reckon what is now spent in extra-
vagant entertainments, excessive gaming, immodest
dresses, elegant furniture, and constant public amuse-
ments, all become now necessary by habit. Such a
^calculation would convince us, that what is given to
the poor is nothing in comparison with what is spent
in luxury ; and yet I will venture to affirm, that in
times like the present we are bound to give a great
deal more than our superfluities in charity. The poor
we recommend to you are, for the most part, so ve-
nerable ; they have impoverished themselves for sucli
a noble cause, that we ought to retrench even our ne-
cessary expences to support them. At least tliis su-
perfluity, such vc superfluity as we have described, a
superfluity given to vice, can we refuse to give it to
the Lord '^ If we dedicate it to the poor, we offer to
God altogether our criminal pleasures and the money
they cost, our passions and our charities ; an(i by ?'i
doing we discharge two religious duties, and present
a., double sacrifice^

jy. The

256 The Duty of giving Alms.

IV. The last calculation we make (a sad calculation
indeed, but, however, necessary) is that of the number
of our j9oor ; and, to abridge the matter, we join to this
an account of the funds which we have to support
them. It is necessary to enter into this detail, for some
people pay no attention to these things ; indeed, they
know in general that there are poor, but, satisfied with
their own abundance, they give themselves little con-
cern to know how many such persons there are.

Turn your eyes a moment from your own prospe-
rity, and fix them on these objects. All the world
knows, that an infinite number of poor people are sup-
ported in this country by charity ; all the world
knows that the afflictions with which it hath pleased
God to visit our churches, have filled these provinces
with an innumerable multitude of distressed objects,
who have no other resource than the charity of our
magistrates. This charity will always be a reason for
our gratitude. It enlivens not only those who par-
take of it, but all the rest of the exiles who behold
with the tenderest sensibility the benefits conferred on
their brethren. But wo be to you, if the charity of
the state be made a pretext for your hard-heartedness,
and if public beneficence be made an obstacle to pri-
vate alms-deeds ! Understand, then, that beside the
poor we have mentioned, there is a great number
Avho have no share in the bounty of the states. This
church hath several- members of this sort. Beside an
infinity of occasions which present them.selves every'
day, beside a thousand extraordinary cases unpro-
vided for, beside a number of indigent persons occa-
sionally relieved, the church supports many hundreds
of families, in which are many infants, many sick,
many aged, and many dying ; they who have been
supported through life, must be buried after their
death at the charge of the church. All these wants
must be regularly supplied every week, whether there
be money in hand or not. When your charities fail,

our

The Duty of giving Alms, 257

our officers assist the poor with their purse, as at all
times they assist them with their pains. Is the pjty-
ment of the weekly sums deferred ? Alas ! if it be
deferred one single day, the poor have no bread that
day : the dying expires without succour : the dead
lies unburied, and putrifies, and infects those who as-
sisted him while alive.

Whatever pains are taken, whatever exactness is
observed, how great soever your charities be, the
poor's fuiid in this church cannot supply all their
wants. — What am I saying, the funds of the church ?
W^e have none. We have no other supplies than what
are derived from our charity given at the door of the
church, from legacies left by a few pious persons, and
from collections. All these are expended, and more
than expended. Our officers are in arrears, and have
ho other hopes than what are founded on your dona-
tions to-day, or next Wednesday, to the collection, of
which I give you this public notice.

You will ask me, without doubt. How then do all
these poor subsist ? for it is very certain they do sub-
sist, and nobody perishes with hunger. How do they
subsist ? Can you want to be informed ? Why, they
suffer---they weep — they groan — from want of food
they fall sick- — sickness increases their wants— their
wants increase their sickness — they fall victims to
death — a death so much the more cruel by how much
the more slow it is ; — and this death — this death cries
to heaven for vengeance against you who shut up
your bowels of compassion from them.

My brethren, with what eyes do you see these
things ? What effects do these sad objects produce
upon you ? Can you behold the miseries of your bre-
thren without compassion ? Can you without any e-
motion of pity hear Jesus Christ begging his bread of
you ? And all these blovvs that we have given at the

VOL. I v. Ti door

258 2'^he Dutij of giving Alms.

door of your hearts, shall they serve only to discdvcV"
the hardness of them, and to aggravate your guilt ?

We frequently complain, that our sermons are use-
less ; that our exhortations are unprofitable ; that our
ministry produces neither wisdom in your minds, nor
virtue in your hearts, nor any alteration in your lives.
You in your turn complain : you say we dedaim ; you
affirm we exaggerate ; and, as the reasonableness or
futility of our complaints depends on a discussion into
which it is impos'sible for us to- enter, the question re-
mains undetermined.

My brethren, you have it in your power to-day,
and next Wednesday, to make your apology. You
may giv^e a certain proof that you are not insensible
to the care which God takes ibr your salvation: You
may do us the favour to confound our reproofs, and to
silence reproof for the future. Beholdj our wants arfe
before you. Behold, our hands are held out to receive
your charity.

Do not lessen your gift on account of what you
have hitherto done ; do not complain of our importu-
nity ;- do not say the Miiseries of the poor are perpe-
tual, and^ their wants have no end ; but rather let
3'our fonner charities be considered as motives to fu-
ture charities. Become models to yourselves. Fol-
low your own example. Recollect, that what makes'
the glory of this state and this church, what Jesus-'
wnll commend at the hist day, what will comfort you
on your death-bed, will not be the rich beaufets tiiat
shine in your houses, the superb equipages that at>-
tend you, the exquisite dishes that nourish you, not
even the signal exploits and numberless victories
which astanJsli the universe, and fdl the world with
yovir names ; but the pious foundations you have
made, the families you have supported, the exiles yOn
have received — these, these will be your felicity and
glory.

Yoi>

The Duty of giving Alms, ^59

You say, the miseries of the poor are perpetuali
and their wants endless ; and this disheartens you.
Alas ! Is not this, on the contrary, what ought to in-
flame your charity ? What ! should your charity di-
minish as wants increase ? What ! because your bre-
thren are hot weary of carrying the cross of Christ,
are you wearied of encouraging them to do so ?

You say, the miseries of the poor are perpetual,
and their wants have no end. I understand you ;
this reproach touclies us in a tender part. But have
we less reason to complain, because we are always
miserable ? Yet, perhaps, we may not always be in a
condition so melancholy. Perhaps God zoill have mer^
cy upon his ajflicted. Perhaps the flaming sword,
which hath pursued us for more than twenty years,
will return into its scabbard^ rest and be still. Perhaps
we may some day cease to be a wretched people,
wandering about the world, exciting the displeasure
of some, and tiring out the charity of others. Per-
haps God, in order to recompence the charity which
you have testified by receiving us, will grant you the
glory of re-establishing us ; and, as you have lodged
the captive ark, will empower you to conduct it back
to Shiloh with songs of victory and praise. Perhaps,
if we all concur to-day in the same design ; if we all
unite in one bond of charity ; if, animated with such
a noble zeal, we address our prayers to him, after we
have offered to him our alms ; perhaps we may build
again the walls of our Jerusalem, and redeem our
Captive brethren from prisons, and gallies, and sla-
very. Perhaps, if God lias determined that Eg-ypt>
which enslaves them, should be for ever the theatre
of his vengeance and curse, he may bring out the re-^
mainder of his Israel with a ^nighty hand and an out-
stretched arm, with Jewels of silver and jewels of gold^
luith flocks and herds, not an hoof being left behind , ac-
4'ording to the expression of Moses, Exod. x. i I .

After all, let us remember wliat was said at the
2 beginning

^60 The Duty of giving Alms.

fjeginning of this discourse, that if Goti reiquires alms
of you, it is owing to liis goodness towards you. Yes^
I would engmve this truth upon your minjs, and fi^
this sentimeM in your hearts. I would make you fully
understand, tiiat Cod has no need of you to sujpport his
poor, and that he ioatJi a tJiouscmd ways at hand io
support them without you. I would fain conyince yx)u,
that if he leaves poor people among you, it is for the
reason we have already mentioned; it is from a sublime
principle, for which I have no name. In dispensing
his other favours, he makes you sink with joy under
the ^' eight of his nagnlficcnce and mercy ; to-d;ay lie
offers to ow e you somethixig. He would become yoiu-
debtor. He makes himself poor, that you may be en-
riched by enriching hiiB. He would have you address
that prayer which a prophet tbrmerly addressed to him^
^' Thine, O Lord, k the greatness, and the power, and
the giory, a^d the victory, and the majesty ; iox all that
is in the ij^aven or the earth is thine. Thine is the
kiagdom, O Lord, mxA thou ait exalted as head above
ail. Both ricLes and iionour coine of thee, and thoj^
reig^aest over all, ^id m thine liand is power and might,
and iH &me Ihand it is to make great, and ±9 giye
streiigtli rmto all Now, therefoi'e, our God, wethauk
thee^^nd ps^ise tlij^ glorious name. But who am I,
and wliat Is ^rf pe<?pkv that w£ should be able to offer
so wilUiigij'' after this sort ? ibr all things come of tliee,
and 0f thii>e qwu l^ave we given thee. Tor we are s^i"Bn~
gers l>e£bre :tliee smd ^ijourners, as were aU oar fathers:
our days on the earth are as a shadow.^ and tliere is-
none abi^ng^" i €!tri>B. xxix. 1 i, ^c.

May tlieie forcible reasons, and tli-ese noble mot^^ve^
c«nvej light inta tlie darkest mmds, and softeri; tte
Xkxmt obdurate hearts. ; asid i^j each a|)|>Iy them- Xq
hameif in particular ? It iiapirjeus, not oufreque^ntly,
that on the^ occasions each tiusts to the public, and,
imagining that the charity of an iadividuai will be no-
thing to 'tlie total sum. i^v this re^oH omits to gi^e-

The Duty of giving Alms. ^61

No, my brethren, there is no person here who does not
make one. There is no person here who onght not
io consider himself the piil^Iic, and, if I may venture to
s^y so, representing in some sort tire whole congrega-
tion. Every person here ougiit to consider his own
contribution as deciding the abundance or the insigni ■
ficance of our collection. Let each therefore tax him-
self. Let no one continue in arrears. Let a noble
emulation be seen araong^st us. Let the man in power
give a part of the salary of his office. Let military
men give a part of their pay. Let the merchant give
a part of the profits of his trade. Let the mechanic
give a part of the labour of his hands. Let the mi-
nister consecrate a part of what his ministry produces.
Let the young; man give a part of his pleasures. Let
the lady bestow a part of her ornaments. Let the dis-
sipated give the poor that box of ohitmenf, which was
intended for profane uses. Let the native of these
provinces give a part of his patrimony : and let the
refugee give a part of what lie has saved from the fuiy
of the ocean when his vessel was dashed to pieces; and
witli a part of these remnants let him kindle a fire to
offer sacrifices to that God who saved him from pe-
rishing by shipwreck.

My brethren, I know not what emotions of joy pe-
netrate and transport me. I know not what emotions
of my heart promise me, that this discom^e will be
attended with more success than all we iiave ever ad-
dressed to you. Ye stewarcis of our chaiity, ask boldly,
Coine into our houses ye ble&fed of the IjiCtrd^ mid re-
ceive alms of a people who will conti3j\ite with joy,
yea even with gitititude end thanks.

But, my brethren, we are not jet conteBt wi&yoii.
Should you exceed aH^ur expectatioas ; should ymi
give all your fortune r^hould you leave no poc^r here-
after among you ; aO tills woukl not satisiy me. I
speak not only for the iDti^est of tbe poor, but for
yoiTF own interest: we wkb vouta ^Ivevour charities

With

2J52 The Duty of giving Alms,

with the same view. In giving your alms, give your
minds, give your hearts. Commit to Jesus Christ not
only a little portion of your property, but your bodies,
your souls, your salvation, that so you may be able to
say in the agonies of death, " I know whom I have
trusted, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep
that which I have committed unto him against that
day," 2 Tim. i. 12. God grant us this grace. To
hiip be honour and glory for ever.

.S^EJIMON

SERMON X.

jOfirlstiaii Heroisin.

Proverbs xvi. 32

He that ruldh his spirit, is better than he that taketh a

citij.

TIT'ERE we to judge of these words by the first
impressions they nmke on the nilnd, we should
place them among such hyperbolical propositions as
imagination forms to colour and exceed truth. The
mind on some occasions is so struck as to magnify the
object in contemplation. The niore susceptible peo-
ple are of lively impressions, the more subject they
are to declamation and hyperbole. We find these
maxin^s sometiiaes necessary in explaining the sacred
authors. Were we to adhere scrupulously to their
words, we should often mistake their meaning, and
extend their thoughts beyond due bounds. The peo-
ple of the east seldom express themselves with preci-
j?ion. A cloud intercepting a ^ew rays of light is the
" sun darkened." A meteor in the air, is " the powers
of the heavens shakep." Jonah in the belly of the
fish, is a man '' dowi^t the 15ottom of the mountains."
Thunder is the *' voi^(|f)f Jcliovah, powerful and full
of majesty, dividing flames of fire, breaking cedars of
Lebanon, making Syrians skip, and stripping forests
|t}re." A sv.^arm of insects is *^ a nation set in battle

^rray

264" Chrisiian Heroism.

array, marching every one on his ways, not breaking
their ranks, besieging a city, having tlie teeth of a
Hon, and the cheek teeth of a great lion," Joel i. 6.
and ii. 7, 9.

If we be ever authorised to solve a difficult text by
examining the licence of hyperbolical style ; if ever it
be necessary to reduce hyperbole to precision, is i^
not so now in explaining the text before us, " He that
ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city ?"
AVhat justness can there be in comparing a man, who
ty reflection corrects his passions, with an hero, who,
in virtue of concerted plans, great fatigues, spending
days and nights on horseback, surmounting difficulties,
enduring heats and colds, braving a variety of dangers,
at last arrives, by marching through a shower of shot
darkening the air, to cut through a squadron, to scale
a wall, and to hoist his flag in a conquered city ?

But, however just this commentary may appear,
you will make no use of it here, unless you place
Christianity in the exercise of easy virtues, and after
the example of most men accommodate religion to
your passions, instead of reforming your passions by
religion. Endeavour to form principles, resist fashion
and custom, eradicate prejudice, undertake the con-
quest of yourself, carry fire and sword into the most
sensible part of your soul, enter the lists with your
darling sin, " mortify your members which are upon
earth," rise above flesh and blood, nature and self-love,
and, to say ail in one word, endeavour to " rule your
spirit ;" and you will find that Solomon hath rigorous-
ly observed the laws of precision, that he hath spoken
the language of logic, and not of oratory, and that
there is not a shadow of hyperbole or exaggeration in
this proposition, " He that rul^i his spirit, is better
than he that taketh a city." 'W'

But to what period shall we refer the explication
of the text ? We will make meditation supply the
place of experience, and we will establish a truth,

which

Christian Hei^oisnu S65

which the greatest part of you have not experiences,
and which perhaps you never will experience. This
is the design of this discourse. Our subject is true
heroism, the real hero.

I enter into the matter. The word heroism is bor-
rowed of the heathens. They called those men he-
roes, whorsji a remainder of modesty and religion
prevented their putting into the number of their gods,
but who, for the glory of their exploits, were too great
to be enrolled among mere men. Let Us purify this
ifdea : The man of whom Solomon speaks, " he who
ruleth his spirit," ought not to be confounded with the
resic of mankind ; he is a man transformed by grace;
one who, to use the language of scripture, is a " par-
taker of the divine nature." We are going to speak of
this man, and we will first describe him, and next set
forth his magnanimity, or, to keep to the text, we will
first explain what it is to " rule the spirit," and, se
condly, we will prove, that " he that ruleth his spirit,
is better than he that taketh a city." If we proceed
further, it will only be to add a few reflections, tending
to convince you, that you are all called to heroism ;
that there is no middle way in religion ; that you must
of necessity either bear the shame and infamy of being-
mean and dastardly souls, or be crowned with the
glory of heroes.

I. Let us first explain the words of the text, " to rule
the spirit." Few words are more equivocal in the sa-
cred language than this which our interpreters have
rendered spirit. It is put in different places for the
thoughts of the viind, the passions of the heart, the
emotioiiis of sense^ phantoms of imagination, and Illu-
sions of concdpiscence.iii^^e will not trouble you with
grammatical dissertat^m. In our idiom, " to rule the
spirit," (and this is precisely the idea of Solomon) " to
rule the spirit" is never to suffer one's self to be pre-
judiced by false ideas ; always to see things in their

tru§

$266 Chistian Heroism,

tzaie point of view ; to regulate our hatred and our
love, our desires and our inactivity, exactly according
to the knowledge we have obtained after mature de-
liberation, that objects are worthy of our esteem, or
deserve our aversion, that tliey are worth obtaining,
or proper to be neglected.

But as this manner of speaking, " to rule the spirit,'*
supposes exercise, pains, labours, and resistance, we
ought not to confine ourselves to the general idea
y/hich we have given. We consider man in three
points of light : in regard to his natural dispositions ;
in regard to the objects that surround liim ; and in
regard to the habits which he hath contracted.

1 . Consider the natural dispositiofis of man. Man,
as soon as he is in the world, finds himself the slave of
his heart, instead of being master of it. I mean, that
instead of a natural facility to admit only what is true,
and to love only wiiat is amiable, he feels I know not
what interior power, which indisposes him to truth
and virtue, and conciliates him to vice and falsehood.

I am not going to agitate the famous question of
free-will, nor to enter the lists with those, who are
noted in the church for the heresy of denying the doc-
trine of human depravity ; nor will I repeat all the
urgumenjts good and bad;, wliich are alleged against it.
'If there be a subject in v/hich we ought to have no
implicit faiths either in those who deny, or in those
vho afhrm ; if there be a subject, in the discussion o^
wdiich they who embrace the side of error advance
truth, and they who embrace the side of truth advance
falsehoods, this is certainly the subject. But we will
not litigate this doctrine. We will allege here only
one proof of our n?itiuai depravity, that shall be taken
from experience, and, for evici^|ce of this fatal truth,
we refer each of you to his mm feelings.

Is virtue to be practised ? Who does not feel, as
soon 35 he is capable, of observing, an inward power
of resistance ? By virtue here, I understand an uni-
versal

Christian Heroism. 267

v^rsal disposition of an intelligent soul to devote itself
to order, and to regulate its conduct as order requires.
Order demands, that when I suffer, T should submit
myself to the mighty hand of God, which afflicts me.
When I am in prosperity, order requires me to ac-
knowledge the bounty of my benefactor. If I possess
talents superior to those of my neighbour, order re-
quires me to use them for the glory of him, from
whom I received them. If I am obliged to acknow-
ledge that my neighbour hath a richer endowment
than I, order requires me to acquiesce with submission,
and to acknowledge with humility this difference of
endowment ; should I revolt v/ith insolence, or dis-
pute through jealousy or self-love, I should act dis-
orderly.

What I affirm of virtue, that it is a general dispo-
sition, that I affirm also in regard to an indisposition
to sin. To avoid vice is to desist alike from every
thing contrary to ordei*, from slander and anger, from
indolence and voluptuousness, and so on.

He who forms such ideas of the obligations of men,
will have too many reasons to acknowledge, by his
own inward feelings and experience, that we bring into
the world with us propensities hostile and fatal to such
obligations. Some of these are in the body ; others
in the mind.

Some are in the bod^. Who is there that finds in
his senses that suppleness and readiness of compliance
with a volition, which is itself directed by laws of
order ? Who does not feel his constitution rebel against
virtue ? I am not speaking now of such men as bru-
tally give themselves up to their senses, who consult
no other laws than the revolutions of their own minds,
and who, having abandoned for many years the go-
vernment of their souW to the humours of their bo-
dies, have lost all dominion over their senses. I speak
of such as have the most sincere desire to hear ai-fld
opey the laws of order. Hov/ often does a tender

and

^OS Christian Heroism,

and charitable soul find in a body subject to violence
and anger obstacles against the exercise of its chai itv
and tenderness ? How often does a soiil, penetrated
with respect for the laws of purity, f^.nd m a bo% re~
beirioiis against this virtue terrible obstacles, to which
, it is in a manner constrained to yield ?

Disorder is not only in the body ; the soul is m the
same condition. Consult yourselves in regard to such
virtues and vices as are, so to speak, altogether spi-
ritual, and have no relation, or a very distant one, to
matter, and you will find you brought into the world
an indisposition to some of these virtues, and an incli-
nation to the opposite vices. For example, avarice is
one of these spiritual vicc.^^ having only a very distant
relation to matter. I do not mean that avarice does
?TGt incline us towards sensible objects, I only say, that
\t is a passion less seated in the mtiteriaf than in
the spiritual part of man \ it rises rather out of reflec-
tions of' the mind, than out of motions <^i the bady.
Yet how many people are bom sordid ; people always
inclmed to amass money, and to whom the bare thought
of giving, or parting with any thing, gives pain;
people who prove, by the very manner in which tliey
exercise the laws of generosity, that they are naturally
inclined to violate them ; people who never give ex-
cept hj constraint, who tear away, as it were, what
they bestow on the necessities of the poor ; and who
never cut off those dear parts of themselves without
taking the most affectionate leave of them ? Envy
and jealousy are dispositions of the kind Vv hich vre call
spiritual; They have their seat ii> the soul. Th.ere
are maiiy persons who acknowledge the injustice and
baseness of these vices, and who hate them, and.: who
pevertheless are not sufficient lapsters of themselves to
prevent the dominion of them, at least to prevent a
repetition of them, and not to find sometimes their
9wn misery in the prosperity of other persons*

Chrisiian Heroism, 269'

As we feel in our constitution obstacles to virlvie,
Aiid propensities to vice, so we perceive also inclina-
tions to error, and obstacles to truth. These things
are closely connected ; for if we find within us natural
obstacles to virtue, we find for that very reason natural
obstacles to truth ; and if we be born with propensi-
ties iio vice, we are born on that very account proicte to
error. Strictly speaking, all ideas of vice may Ibe re-
ferred to one, that is to error. Every vice, every ir-
regular passion openly or tacitly implies a falspliootl.
Every vice, every irregular passion includes this error,
that a man who gratifies his passion, is happier than
he who restrains an^d moderates it. Now every ma^i
judging in this manner* whether he do so openly or
eoverjtly, takes the side of error. If we be then na-
turally inclined to some vices we are naturally inclined
to so4ue errors, I mean, to admit that false principle
on which the irregular passion establisheth the vice it
>f''O^M commit, tlie desire of gratification. An impas-
sionate man is not free to discern truth from faise-
hoo;d, at least, ke caniiqt without extreme consj:raint
discern the one from the other. He is inclined to fix
his mind on what^ever favours his passion, changes its
jtiature, and disguises vice in the habit of virtue ; and.
to say all in one word, he is i^np.elled to fix his mmd
on wliatever makes truth appear false, aiid falsehood
true.

I conclude, the disposition of mind of which" Solompo
speaks, and ^vhich he describes by ruling tJpe splrif^
sup}X)ses labour, constraint, and exercise, A ma.!?
who would 'Require this noble disposition of mind, a
man who would rule his spirit, must in ^ome sort re-
4^reate himself; he fiiuls himself at once, if I may be
alipwed to say so, at Wi^ with nature ; his body must
Ije formed ane^y; histomouTs and his spirits must be
turneii into another channel ; violence must be done
to aii the powers jof his spuL

2> Having considered man in regard to his natxiral

dispositions

570 Ckristiaii Her own.

dispositions, observe him secondly in regard to sur-
rounding objects. Here yOii will obtain a second expo-
sition of Solomon's words, He that ruleth his spirit ; yoii
will have a second class of evidences of that exercise*
labour, and constraint, which true heroism supposes.
Society is composed of many enemies, who seem to b6
taking pains to inci^ease those difficulties which our
natural dispositions oppose against truth and virtue*

Examine the members of this society among whom
we are appointed to live, consult their ideas, hear theif
conversation, weigh their reasonings, and you will find
almost every where false judgments, errors, mis-
takes, and prejudices ; prejudices of birth, taken
from our parents, the nurses who suckled us, the
people who made the habits in which we were wrap-
ped in our cradles ; prejudices of education, taken froni
the masters to v.hom the care of our earlier days wa$
committed, from some false ideas which they had im-
bibed in their youth, and from other illusions which
they had created themselves ; prejudices of country^
taken from the genius of the people among whom
we have lived, and, so to speak, from the very air
we have breathed ; prejudices of religion, taken from
our catechists, from the divines we have consulted/
from the pastors by whom we have be(^n directed, from
the sect we have embraced ; prejudices of friendship,
taken from the connections we have had, and the com-
pany we have kept ; prejudices of trade and profession,
taken from the mechanical arts we have followed, or
the abstract sciences we have studied ; prejudices of
fortune, taken from the condition of life in which we
have been, either among the noble or the poor. Thi.^
is only a; small part of the canals by which error is-
conveyed to us. What efforts . must a man make,
what pains must he take with himself to preserve him-
self from contagion, to hold his soul perpetually iii
equilibrium, to keep all the gates of error shut, and
incessantly to maintain, amidst so many prejudices, that

freedoia

Chrisiian Heroism, 271

freedom of judgment which weighs argimient against
objection, objection against argument, which delibe-
rately examines all that can be advanced in favour of
a proposition, and all that can be said against it ;
wiiich considers an oh'^Qci in every point of view., and
which makes us determine only as w^e are constrained
by the irresistible authority, and by the soft violence
of truth, demonstration, and evidence ?

As the men who suri*ound us fascinate us by their
errors, so they decoy us into vice by their example.
In all places, and in all age^, virtue had few er parti-
zans than vice ; in all ages and in all places, the friends
of virtue were so few in comparison of the partizans
of vice, that the saints complained, that the earth was
not inhabited by men of the first kind, and that the
whole world was occupied by the latter, the godly man
ceaseih ; the fazthftd fail from among the children of
men. The Lord looked down from heaven upon the
children of men^ to see if titer e were any thai did under-
stand, and seek God. They are all gone aside, they are
altogether become filthy ; there is none that doeth good,
no not one, Psal. xii. 1. and xiv. 2, 3. An exaggeration
of the prophet, I grant, but an exaggeration for which
the universality of human depravity hath given too
much occasion. Cast your eyes attentively on so-
ciety, you will be, as our prophet was, astonished at the
great number of the partizans of vice ; you will be
troubled, as lie was, to distinguish in the crowd any
friends of virtue ; and you wdll find yourself inclined tc»
say, as he said, there is none that doeth goo^, no not one.

But how difficult is it to resist example, and to rule
the spirit among such a number of tyrants, v\lio aini
only to enslave it ! In order to resist example, we must
incessantly oppose those natural inclinations which
urge us to imitation. To resist example, we must nf»t
suffer ourselves to be dazzled either with the nunibei-
or the splendour of §uch as ha\'e placed vice on a

throne.

$72 Chrisiian heroism,

throne. To resist e.x ample, we must brave persecu-
tion, and all the inconveniences to which worldlj
people never fail to expose them who refuse to follow
them down the precipice. To resist example, we
must love virtue for virtue's sake. To resist example,
we must transport ourselves into another world, ima-
gine ourselves among those holy societies who surround
the throne of a holy God, who make his excellen-
cies the continual matter of their adoration and
homage, and who fly at the first signal of his hand<
the first breath of his mouth. What a work, what
a difficult work for 3^ou, poor mortal, whose eyes
are always turned toward the earth, and whom your
own involuntary and insurmountable weight inces-
santly carries downwai'd !

3. Finally, We must acknowledge what labour,
pains, and resistance, the disposition of which Solomon
speaks requires, if we consider man in regard to the
habits which he hath contracted. As soon as we en-
ter into the world, Ave find ourselves impelled by our
natural propensities, stunned with the diii of our pas-
sions, and, as I just now said, seduced by the errors,
and carried away by the examples of our companions.
Seldom in the first years of life, do we surmount that
natural bias, and that power of example, which im-
pel VIS to falsehood and sin. Most men have done
more acts of vice than of virtue ; consequently, in the
course of a certain number of years, we contribute by
our way of living to join to the depravity of nature
that which comes from exercise and habit. A man
who w ould rvJe his spirit, is then required to eradicate
the habits which have taken possession of him. What
a task !

What a task, when we endeavour to prevent the
return of ideas w hich, for many years, our minds have
revolved ! What a task, to defend ones self from ^
passion which knows all the avenues of the mind, and
ho\y to facilitate access by means of the body ! What

a task^

Christian Heroism. 27S

a task, to turn away from the flattering images, and
seducing solicitations of concupiscence long accustom-
ed to gratitication ! What a task, when we are ob-
liged to make the greatest efforts in the weakest part
of life, and to subdue an enemy, whom we have been
always used to consider as unconquerable ; and whom
we never durst attack, when he had no other arms
than what we chose to give him, and enjoyed no other
advantages than such as we thought proper to allow !
Such labour, such pains and constraint must he expe-
rience who acquires the art of ruling his spirit ! Now
then, as we have explained this disposition of mind,
let us assign the place which is due to him who hath
it. Having given an idea of real heroism, we must
display the grandeur of it, and prove the proposition
in my text, *' he that ruleth his spirit, is better than
he that taketh a city."

II. For this purpose, it is not necessary to observe,
that, by him that taketh a city, Solomon does not mean
a man who, from principles of virtue, to defend his
country and religion, hazards his life and liberty in a
just war ; in this view, he that taketh a city, and he
that ruleth his spirit, is one and the same man. Solo-
mon intends conquerors, who live, if I may express
myself so, upon victories and conquests ; he intends
heroes, such as the world considers them.

Neither is it necessary precisely to fix the bounds
of this general expression, is better. " He that ruleth
his spirit, is better than he that taketh a city." The
sense is easily understood ; in general, it signifies that
he that ruleth his spirit, discovers more fortitude, more
magnanimity, and more courage ; that he hath more
just ideas of glory, and is more worthy of esteem and
praise, than they who are called in the world conque ;
rors and heroes.

We will prove this proposition, by comparing the
hero of the world with the christian hero ; and we will

VOL. IV. s confine

274 Christian Heroistii,

confine the comparison to four articles : First, the mo-
tives which animate them ; secondly, the exploits they
perform ; thirdly, the enemies they attack ; and lastly^
the rewards they obtain. He that taketh a city, is ani-
mated with motives n:ean and worldly, which degrade
an> intelligent soul, even while they seem to elevate it
to a pinnacle of grandeur and glory ; but he that riileth
his spirit, is animated by motives grand, noble, and
sublime, every way suited to the excellence of otir
nature. He thai ruleth his sjyirit, is capable of all the.
exploits of hi?n that taketh a city ; but he that taketh a
city, is not capable of the exploits of him that ruleth
his spirit. He that taketh a city, attacks an exterior
enemy, to whom he hath no attachment ; but he that
ruleth his spirit, attacks an enemy who is dear to him,
and hath the greatness of soul to turn his arms against
himself. In fine, he that taketh a city, is crowned only
by idiots, who have no just notions of grandeur and
heroism ; but he that ruleth his spirit, will be crowned
with the Jiands of the only just appraiser and dispenser
of glory. These are four titles of superiority which
the christian he ro hath over the false hero, four
sources of proofs tO/ establish the proposition in our
text, " he that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that
taketh a city."

1. Let us consider the motives which animate a
conqueror that taketh a city, and the motives which
animate a man that obtains- rule over his spirit ; the
motives of the true hero, with the motives of the false
hero. What are the motives of a false hero ? What
spirit animates him, when he undertakes to conquer a
city ? This is one of the questions which sinful pas-
sions have most obscured. Truth is disguised in epis-
tles dedicatory, and in profane eulogiums, yea, some-
times in religious discourses. The majesty of a vic-
torious general, the glory of a conqueror, the pom-
pous titles of victor, arbiter of peace, arbiter of war,
have so dazzled us, and in some sort so perverted the

powers

Christian Heroism, 2?J

powers of out sou}, that we cannot form just tiotions
of this subject. Hear pure nature, formerly speaking
by the mouth of a natioii, who were the more wise for
not being civilized by the injustice of our laws and
Customs. I speak of the ancient Scythians. The
most famous taker of cities came to their cabins and
caverns. He had already subdued his fellow citizens
and neighbours. Already Thebes and Athens, Thrace
and Thessaly, had submitted to his arms. Already,
Greece being too small a sphere of action for him, he
had penetrated even into Persia, passed the famous
Phrygian river, where he slew six hundred thousand
men, reduced Caria and Judea, made war with Darius
and conquered him, performed exploits more than
human, and, in spite of nature, besieged and took Tyre,
the most famous siege recorded in ancient history,
subjugated the Mardi and Bactrians, attained the
mountains Caucasus and Oxus, and, in a word, con-
ijuered more rountries, and enslaved more people, than
We can describe, or even mention within the limits al-
lotted to this exercise. This man arrives in Scythia.
The Scythians sent deputies to him, who thusaddressed
him : *' Flad the gods given you a body proportioned
to your ambition, the whole universe would have been-
too little for you : with one hand you will have
touched the east, and with the other the west, and,
not content with this, you would have followed the
sun, and have seen where he hides himself. What-
ever you are, you are aspiring at what you can never
obtain. From Europe you run into Asia, and from
Asia back you run again into Europe; and, having en-
slaved all mankind, you attack rivers, and forests, and
wild beasts. What have you to do with us ? We have
never set foot in your country. May not a people
living in a desert be allowed to be ignorant of who
you are, and whence you come ? You boast of having
exterminated robbers, and you yourself are the greatest ^
robber in the world. You have pillaged and plun-

2 dered

275 Christian Heroism.

ilered all nations, and now you come to rob us ©f our
cattle. It is in vain to fill your hands, for you are
always in search of fresh prey. Of what use are you'r
"boundless riches, except to irritate your eternal thirst ?
You are the fir&t man who ever experienced such
extreme want in the midst of such abundance. All
you have serves only to make you desire with more
fury what you have not. If you be a god, do good
to mankind ; but if you be only an insignificant mor-
tal, think of what you are, and remember that it is a
great folly to occupy things which make us forget
ourselves^." These are the motives which animate
the heroes of the world ; these are the sentiments
which are disguised under the fine names of glory,
valour, greatness of soul, heroism. An insatiable avi-
dity of riches, an invincible pride, a boundless ambi-
tion, a total forgetfulness of what is, what ought to
be, and what must be hereafter.

The motives of him who endeavours to render
himself master of his own heart, are love of order, de-
sire of freedom from the slavery of the passions, a no-
ble firmness of soul, which admits only what appears
true, and loves only what appears lovely, after sober
and serious discussion. In this first view, then, the
advantage isv/hollyin favour oihim thatruleth his spirit
He thai ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a
Citij,

2. Compare, in the second place, the exploits of him
that ruleth his spirit, with the exploits of hi?u that
iu/ceth a citjj. He who is capable of ruling his spirit,
is capable of all that is great and noble in him that
taketh a cit?/ ; but he that taketh a. city, is not capable
of alt that is great and magnanimous in him that
ruUth his spirit. I will explain myself.

What is there great and magnanimous in a hero"
that taketh a city ? Patience to endure fatigue, to
surmount difficulties, to suffer contradiction ; intre-

pidity

* Qiiiutus Curtius, lib. vii. CTip. fi.

Christian Heroism. ^77

pidity in the most frightful dangers ; presence of
mind in the most violent and painful exercises ; un-
shaken firmness in sight of a near and terrible disso-
lution. These are dispositions of mind, I grant,
which seem to elevate man above humanity ; but a
diristian hero is capable of all this, I s})eak sincerely,
and without a figure. A man, who hath obtained a
religious freedom of mind, who always preserves tliis
liberty, who always weighs good and evil, who be-
lieves only what is true, and does only what is right ;
who hath always his eye upon his duty, or, as the
psalmistexpressethit, who '' sets the Lord always before
him," such a man is capable, literally capable, of all
you admire in a worldly hero. No difficulty discou-
rages him, no contradiction disconcerts him, no fa-
tigue stops him, no dangers affright him, no pain
but he can bear, no appearance of death shocks him'
into paleness, and fear, and flight. Our women and
children, our confessors and martyrs have literally
performed greater exploits of fortitude, patience,
courage, and constancy, in convents, prisons, and dun-
geons, at stakes and on scaffolds, than Alexanders
and Cesars in all their lives. And where is the hero
of this world, who hath performed so many actions
of courage and magnanimity in sieges and battles, as
our confessors have for thirty years on board the gal-
lies ? The former were supported by the presence of
thousands of witnesses ; the latter had no spectators
but God and their own consciences. The christian
hero is capable then of all tnat is great in the hero of
the A^'orld. But the worldly hero is incapable of per-
forming such exploits as the christian hero performs ;
and he knows perfectly that his heroism doth not
conduct him so far in the path of glory. Try the
strength of a worldly hero. Set him to contend with
a passion. You will soon find this man, invincible
before, subdued into slavery and shame. He who
was firm and fearless in sight of fire and fla-ne, at the

sound

278 Christian Heroism.

sound of warlike iiistnunents, becomes feeble, mean,
and enervated by a seducing and enchanting object.
Sampson defeats the Philistines ; but Dalilah subdues
Sampson. Sampson carries away the gates of C>aza :
but Sampson sinks under the weight of his own sen-
suality. Hercules seeks highway robbers to combat,
and monsters to subdue ; but he cannot resist impurity.
We find him on monuments of anticjujty carrying an
infant on his shoulders, an emblem of volu|,tuoir-ness,
stoo^nng under that unworthy burden, and letting his
club fall from his hand. There is thereibi e no decia-
matirn, n(; hyperbole in our profjosition ; the christian
hero is ca able of performing all the great actioiss j;er-
formed by the hero of the world ; but the hero of the
world is incapable of performing such noble actions as
the christian hero performs ; and in this respect, '* he
that ruleth his spirit, is better than he that taketh a
city."

8. Compare him that taketh a citij ipith him that
ruleth his spij^it, in regard to the enemies whom they
attack, and you will find in the latter a third title of
sureriority over the former. " He that taketh a city,"
attacks an exterior enemy, who is a stranger, and
often odious to him. The ambition that fills his soul
leaves no room for compassion aiul pity ; and, provided
he can but obtain his end, no matter to him though
the way be strewed with the dying and the dead; to
obtain that, he travels over mountains of heads, and
arms, and carcases. The tumultuous passions which
tyrannize over him, stifle the voice of nature, and
deafen him to the cries of a thousand miserable wretches
sacrificed to his fame.

The enemy whom the christian combats is his
own heart ; for he is required to turn his arms against
himself He must suspend all sentiments of self-love ;
he must become his own executioner, and, to use the
ideas and expressions of Jesus Christ, he must actually
(leji^ himself.

'" Jesus

Christian Heroism. -^79

Jesiis Christ well knew mankind. He xlid not
preach like some preaching- novices, who, in order to
incline their hearers to subdue their passions, propose
the work to them as free from difficulty. Jesus Christ
did not disguise the difficulties which the man must
undergo who puts on the spirit of Christianity *, and I
do not know whether we meet with any expression in
the writings of pagan poets or philosophers more na-
tural, and at the same time more emphatical than this ;
*•' If any man will come after me, let him deny him-
self," Matt. xvi. 24.

Not that this is literally practicajjle, not that man
can put off himself, not that religion requires us to
sacrifice to it what makes the essence and happiness
of our nature ; on the contrary, strictly speaking, it is
sin which makes us put off or deny what is great and
noble in our essence ; it is sin which requires us to
sacrifice our true happiness to it. If Jesus Christ ex-
presses himself in this manner, it is because when man
is possessed with a passion, it is incorporated, as it were,
with himself ; it seems to him essential to his felicity ;
every thing troubles, and every thing puts him on the
rack when he cannot gratify it ; without gratifying
his passion, his food hath no taste, tlowers no smell,
pleasures no point, the sun is dark, society disagree-
able, life itself hath no charms. To attack a reigning
passion is io deny self ; and here is the 'patience oj the
saints ; this is the enemy whom the christian attacks ;
this is the war which he wageth. How tremulous
and weak is the hand when it toiicheth a sword to be
plunged into one's ov/n bosom ! Love of order, truth,
and virtue support a christian hero in this almost des-
perate undertaking.

4. In fine. Compare him that ruleth his svirit with
Mm thai taketh a citu, in reeard to the acclamations
with which they are accompanied, and the crowns
prepared for them. Who are the authors of those
acclamations with which the air resoujids the praise
♦ of

286 Christian Heroism.

of worldly heroes ? They are courtiers, poets, pane-
gyrists. But what ! are people of this order the only
persons who entertain just notions of glory ? and if
they be, are they generous enough to speak out ?
How can a soul wholly devoted to the will and ca-
price of a conqueror ; how can a venal creature, who
makes a market of eulogiums and praises, which he
sells to the highest bidder ; how can a brutal soldiery
determine what is worthy of praise or blame ? Is it
for such people to distribute prizes of glory, and to
assign heroes their rank ? To be exalted by people of
this sort is a shame ; to be crowned by their hands an
infamy.

Elevate, elevate thy meditation, christian soul, rise
into the Majesty of the Great Supreme. Think of that
sublime intelligence, who unites in his essence every
thing noble and sublime. Contemplate God, sur-
rounded with angels and archangels, cherubim and
seraphim. Hear the concerts which happy spirits
perform to his glory. Flear them, penetrated, ravished,
charmed with the divine beauties, crying night and
day, " Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts, the whole
earth is full of his glory. Blessing and glory, wisdom
and thanksgiving, honour, and power, and might be
unto our God for ever and ever. Great and marvel-
lous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just and true
are thy ways, thou King of saints. Who shall not fear
thee, O luord, and glorify thy name ?" This Being so
perfect, this Being so worthily praised, this Being so
worthy of everlasting praise, this is he who will pro-
nounce upon true glory ; this is he who will compose
the euiogium of all who aspire at it ; this is he who
will one day praise in the face of heaven and earth all
those who shall have made the noble conquests which
we have been describing.

Imagination sinks under the weight of this subject,
and this object is too bright for eyes like ours ; but
the nature of things doth not depend on our faculty

of

CJyristiayi Heroism. 281

of seeing them. As God calls us to combats more
than human, so he sees fit to support us by a prospect
of more than human rewards. Yes, it is the supreme
Being', it is he, who will one day distribute the praises
which are due to such as have triumphed over them-
selves. What a spectacle ! what a prospect ! Yes,
christian champion, after thou hast resisted flesh and
blood, after thou hast been treated as a fool by man-
kind, after thou hast run the race of tribulation, after
thou hast made thy life one perpetual martyrdom, thou
shalt be called forth in the presence of men and angels ;
the master of the world shall separate thee from the
crowd ; there he will address to thee this language.
Well done, good and faithful servant ; there he will ac-
complish the promise which he this day makes to all
who fight luider his standard, he that overcometh shall
sit dmvn in my throne. Ah ! glory of worldly heroes,
profane encomiums, fastidious inscriptions, proud tro-
phies, brilliant, but corruptible diadems ! what are you
in comparison with the acclamations which await the
christian hero, and the crowns which God the rewarder
prepares for him ?

And you, mean and timid souls, who perhaps ad-
mire these triumphs, but Avho have not the ambition
to strive to obtain them ; you soft and indolent spirits,
who, v> ithout reluctance, give up all pretensions to the
immortal crowns which God prepares for heroism,
provided he require no account of your indolence and
effeminacy, and suffer you, like brute beasts, to follow
the first instincts of your nature ; undeceive your-
selves. I said, at the beginning, you are all called to
heroism ; there is no mid-way in religion ; )^ou must
be covered with shame and infamy, along with the base
and timid, or crowned with glory, in com])any with
heroes. The duty of an inteliigent soul is to adhere
to truth, and to follow virtue ; we bring into the
Avorld with us obstacles to both ; our duty is to sur-
mount them ; without this we betray our trui^t ; we

do

282 Christian Heroism,

do not answer the end of our creation ; we are guilty,
and we shall be punished for not endeavouring to ob-
tain the great end for which we were created.

Let this be the great principle of our divinity and
morality. Let us invariably retain it. Let us not
lose ourselves in discussions and researches into the
origin of evil, and into the permission of the entrance
.of sin into the world. Let us not bury ourselves alive
in speculations and labyrinths ; let us not plunge into
abysses, from which no pains can disengage us. Let
us fear an ocean full of rocks, and let an idea of the
shipwrecks, which so many rash people have m.ade,
stop us on the shore. Let us consider these questions,
less v/ith a view to discover the perfections of the
Creator, in the thick darkness under which he hath
thought proper to conceal them, than in that of learn-
ing the obligations of a creature. I do not mean to
decry those great geniuses, who have treated of this
profound subject. Their works (Jo honour to the
human mind. They are eternal monuments to the
glory of a reason, which knows how to collect its
force, and to fix itself on a single object ; but, it is
always certain, that we cannot arrive at clear truth
on this subject, except by means of thousands of
distinctions and abstractions, which most of us can-
not liiake. The subject is so delicate and refined, that
most eyes are incapable of seeing it, and it is placed
on an eminence so steep and inaccessible, that few ge-
niuses can attain it.

Let us religiously abide by our principle. The duty
of ?in iatelligent soul is to adhere to truth, and to prac-
tise virtue. We are born v ith a disinclination to both.
Our duty is to get rid of this; and, without doing so,
we neglect the obligation of an intelligent soul; we dp
not answer the end for which we were intended ; we
are guilty, and we shall be punished for not having an-
swered the end t)f our creation.

Let us consider ourselves as soldiers placed round a

besieged

Christicin Heroism. 28S

besieged city, and having such or such an enemy to
fight, such or such a post to force. You, you are n^r
turaliy subject to violence and an^er. It is sad to
find, in one's own constitution, an opposition to virtues
so lovely as those of submission, charity, sweetness,
and patience. Groan under this evil ; but do not
despair ; when you are judged, less attention will be
paid to your natural indisposition to these virtues, than
to the efibrts ^^■hich you made to get rid of it. To
this point direct all your attention, all your strenerth,
and all your courage. Say to yourself, this is the
post which my general intends I should force , this
is the enemy I am to fight with. And be you fully
convinced, that one of the principal views which God
hath in preserving your life, is, that you should render
yourself master* of this passion. You, you are naturally
disposed to be proud. The moment you leave your
mind to its natural bias, it turns to such objects as
seem the most ht to give you high ideas of yourself,
to youi penetration, your memory, your imagination,
and even to exterior advantages, Avhich vanity gene-
rally incorporates with the person who enjoys them.
It is melancholy to find within yourself any seeds of an
inclination, which so ill agree with creatures vile and
miserable as men. Lament this misfortune, but do
not despair ; to this side turn all your attention and all
your courage and strength. Say to yourself, this is
the post which my general would have me force ; this
is the enemy whom he hath appointed me to oppose.
And be fully convinced, that one of the principal views
of God in continuing you in this world is, that you
may resist this passion, and make yourself master of
it.

Let us all together, my brethren, endeavour to
ru!e our own spirits. Let us not be dismayed at the
greatness of the work, because greater is he that is in
us than he thai is in the ivorld. Grace comes to the aid
«f nature. Prayer acquires strength by exercise. The

passions^

284f Christian Heroism.

passions, after having been tyrants, become slaves in
their turn. The danger and pain of battle vanish,
when the eye gets sight of conquest. How incon-
ceivably beautiful is victory then ! God grant we may
obtain it! To him be honour and glory for ever.
Amen.

SERMON

SERMON XI

Christian Casuistry,

Proverbs iv. 26.

Ponder the path of thy feet, and all thy ways ^hatt he
established.

npHE sentence which we have now read, includes a
subject of immense magnitude, more proper to
fill a volume, than to be comprised in a single sermon ;
however, we propose to express the subject of it in
this one discourse. AVhen we shall have explained
the subject, we will put it to proof; I mean, we will
apply it to some religious articles, leaving to your
piety the care of applying it to a great number, and
of deriving from the general application this conse-
quence, if we ponder the paths of our feet, all our ways
will he established.

I suppose, first, you affix just ideas to this metapho-
rical expression, po7ider the path of thy feet. It is one
of those singular figures of speech, which agree?
better with the genius of the sacred language than
with that of ours. Remark this once for ad. There
is one among many objections made by the enemies
of religion, which excels in its kind ; I mean to ^y,
it deserves to stand first in a list of the most extrava-
gant sophisms : this isy that there is no reason for

making

2S6 Christian Casuistry.

hiaking" a difference between the g-enius of the Hebrew
langaag'e and the idiom of other languages. It would
seem, hy this objec^tion, that a book not originally
written in the idiom of the language of scepticism can-
not be div^inely inspired. On this absurd principle,
the scripture could not be written in any language ;
for if a Greek had a right to object against inspiration
on this account, an Arabian, and a Persian, and all
other people have the same. Who doth not perceive
at once, that the inspired writers, delivering their mes-
sages at first to the Jews, to rvhom were committed the
oracles of God, Rom. iii. 2. spoke properly according to
the idiom of their Language ? They ran no risk of
being misunderstood by other nations, whom a desird
of being saved should incline to study the language
for the sake of the wisdom taught in it.

How extravagant soever this objection is, so extra-
vagant that no infidel a'. ill oj)enly avow it, yet it i^
adopted, and applied in a thousand instances. The
book of Canticles is full of figures opposite to the
genius of oiu- western languages ; it is therefore no
pa? t of the sacred canon. It would be easy to i)ro-
duce other examples. Let a modern purist, who affects
ne Hj ess and accuracy of style, and gives lectures on
pronunciation, condemn this m.anner of speaking,
ponder the path of thy feet ; with all my heart. The
ii;>sf fired authors had no less reason to make use of it,
nor interpreters to affirm, that it is an eastern expres-
sion, which signifies to take no step without first deli-
berately examining it. The metaphor of the text
being thus reduced to truth, another doubt rises con-
cerning the subject, to which it is applied, and thi&
requires a second elucidation. The term step is usualll j
restrained in our language to actions of life, and never
signifies a mode of thinking ; but the Hebrew lan-
guage gives this term a wider extent, and it includes
all these ideas. One example shall suffice. My steps

had

Christian Casuistry. SSf

had well nigh slipped, Psal. Ixxiii. 2. that is to say, I
was very near taking a faJse step ; and what was this
step ? It was judging that the wicked were happier in
the practice of licentiousnt;^, than the righteous in
obeying the laws of truth and virtue. Solomon, ill
the words of my text, particularly intends to regulate
our actions ; and in order to this he intends to regu-
late the principles of our minds, and the ail'eetions of
our hearts. Ponder the path of thy feet, and all thy ways
SHALL BE established, for so I render the words. Exa-
mine your steps deliberately before you take them, and
you will take only wise steps ; if you would judge
rightly of objects, avoid hasty judging ; before you fix
your affection on an object, examine whether it be
worthy of your esteem, and then you will love nothing
but what is lovely. By thus following the ideas of the
wise man we will assort our reflections with the ac-
tions of your lives, and they will regard also, some-
tim.es, the emotions of your hearts, and the operations
of your minds.

We must beg leave to add a third elucidation. The
maxim in the text is not always practicable. I jnean,
there are some doctrines, and some cases of conscience,
which we cannot fully examine v.ithout coming to a
conclusion that the arguments for, and the arguments
against them are of equal weight, and consequently,
that we must conclude without a conclusion ; weigh
the one against the other^ and the balance will incline
neither way.

This difficulty, however^ solves itself; for, after I
have weighed, with all the exactness of which I am.
capable, two opposite propositions, and can find no
reasons sufficient to determine my judgment, tlie part
I ought to take is not to determine at all. Are you
prejudiced in favour of an opinion^ so ill suited to
the limits which it hatli pleased God to set to our
knowledge, that it is dangerous or criminal to sus-
pend our judgments ? Are your consciences so weak

and

^8S Christian Casuishy.

knd scrupulous as to hesitate in some cases to say,' I
do not know, I have not determined that question ?
Poor men ! do you know yourselves so little ? Poor
christians ! will you always form such false ideas of youf
legislator ? And do you not know that none but such
as live perpetually disputing in the schools make it a
law to answer every thing ? Do you not know, that
one principal cause of that fury, which erected scaf-
folds, and lighted fires in a church, that ought to
breathe nothing but peace and love, was a rash deci-
sion of some questions which it was impossible for
sensible men to determine? Are you not aware that
one of the most odious ideas that can be formed of
God, one the least compatible with the eminence of
his perfections, is, that God requireth of us know-
ledge beyond the faculties he hath given us ? I de-
clare I cannot help blushing for christians, and espe-
cially for christians cultivated as you are, when I per-
ceive it needful to repeat this principle, and even to
use precaution, and to weigh the terms in which we
propose it, lest we should offend them. To what
then are We reduced. Great God, if we have the least
reason to suspect that thou wilt require an account,
not only of the talents which it hath pleased thee Ui
commit to us, but even of others which thou hast
not committed to us? To what am I reduced, if,
having only received of thee, my Creator, a human
intelligence, thou vvilt require of me angelical attain-
ments ? Whither am I driven, if, having received a
body capable of moving only through a certain space
in a given time, thou, Lord, reqiiirest me to move with
the velocity of aerial bodies ? At this rate, when
thou in the last great day shalt judge the world in
righteousnesG, thou, Judge of the whole earth, wilt
condemn me for not preaching the gospel in Persia,
the same day and the same hour in which I was
preaching it in this assembly ? Far from us be such
detestable opinions I Let us adhere to the sentiments

of

Christian Casuistry. 289

of St Paul, God shall judge the gentile according to
what he hath committed to the gentile ; the Jew ac-
cording to what he hath committed to the Jew ; the
christian according to what he hath committed to the
christian. Thus Jesus Christ, «" Unto whomsoever
much is given, of him shall be much required ; and to
whom men have committed much, of him they will ask;
the more," Lake xii. 48. Thus again Jesus Christ
teacheth us, that God will require an account of five
talents of him to whom he gave five talents, of two ta-
lents of him to whom he gave two, and of one only of
him to whom he gave but one. What did our Re-
deemer mean when he put into the mouth of the
wicked servant this abominable pretext for neglecting*
to improve his Lord's talent ? " Lord, I knew thee that
thou art an hard man," or, as it may be better trans-
lated, a barbarous man, " reaping where thou hast not
sown, and gathering v^ here thou hast not strawed."
I return to my subject. When we have examined two
contradictory doctrines, and can obtain no reasons suf-
ficient to determine our judgment, our proper part is
to suspend our judgment of the subject, and not to
determine it at all.

It will be said, that, if this be possible in regard
to speculative points, it is not applicable to matters
of practice. Why not ? Such cases of conscience as
are the most embarrassing are precisely those which
ought to give us the least trouble. This proposition
may appear a paradox, but I think I can explain and
prove it. I compare cases of conscience with points
of speculation ; difficult cases of conscience v/ith such
speculative points as w^e just now mentioned. The
most difficult points of speculation ought to give us
the least concern ; I mean, we ought to be persuaded
that igriorance on these subjects cannot be dangerous.
The reason is plain ; if God intended we should see
these truths in their full depth and clearness, he
>vo;.ld not have involved them in so much obscurity,
or he would have given us greater abilities, and

VOL. IV, T greater

296 Chrisiiajf Casuistiy

greater assistances, to enable us to form adequate atid
perfect ideas of them. In like manner, in i^gard to
ca^es of conscience attended with insurmountabk dif-
ficulties, if our salvation depended on the side we
take in regard to them, God would have revealed
more clearly w hat side we ought to take. In such cases
^s these, intention siipplies the place of knowledge, and
probability that of demonstration.

So much fi^r cleariug the meaning of the wise man ;
now let us put his doctrine to proof. " Ponder tlie
path of thy feet, and all thy ways shall be established."
Wouldst thou take only sure steps, at least as sure as-
is possible in a world where " in many things we
offend all," weigh all the actions you iHt'Ciid to per-
form first with the principle from which they proceed ;
then w ith the circumstances ift which you are at the
time ; next with the manner in which you perform
them ; again with the bounds which restrain them ;
aftel'T^^^^d3 with those degrees of virtue and know-
ledge at v% hich you are arrived ; and, lastly, with the
difi^rent judgments which you yourself form con'cern-
ing them.

I. An action good in itself may become criminal, if
it proceed from a bad principle,

II. An action good in itself may become criminaU
if it be perfonued in certain circumstances.

III. An actit)n good in itself may become criminal
by the manner in which it is performed.

IV. An acdon good in itself may become criminal
by being extended beyond its just limits.

V. An action good in itself when performed by a
itian of a certain degree of knowledge and virtue, may
become criminal, if it be performed by a man of in-
ferior knowledge and virtue.

VI. In fine, an action good in itself now, may be-
come criminal at another time.

These maidms ought to be explained and enforced,
and here we are going, ^< I said at first, to apply the

doctrine

Christian Casuistry. ^91

doctrine of the wise man to a few subjects, leaving
to your piety the care of applying them to a great
number, which will necessarily occur in the course of
your lives.

I. We ought to ponder our steps in regard to the
principle from which they proceed. An action good
in itself may become Criminal, if it proceed from a
bad principle. The little attention we pay to this
fnaxim is one principal cause of the false judgments
We make of ourselves. Thus many, who allow them-
selves very expensive luxuries, say, they contribute
to the increase of trade. To increase trade, and to
employ artists, considered in themselves, are good
Works I grant ; but is it a desire of doing these good
Works that animates you ? Is it not your vanity ? Is
it not your luxury ? Is it not your desire of sparkling
and shining in the world ?

Thus our brethren, who resist all the exhortations
that have been addressed to them for many years, to
engage them to follow Jesus Christ wttkout the camp,
reply, that were they to obey tliese exhortations, all
the seeds of truth now remaining in the land of their
nativity would perish, and that the remnants of the
reformation would be entirely extirpated. Diligently
to preserve even remnants of the reformation, and
seeds of truth, is certainly an a^^tion good in itself;
but is this the motive which animates you when you
resist all our exhortations ? Is it not love of the present
world? Is it not the same motive that animated Demasf
Is it not because you have neither courage enough to
sacrifice for Jesus Christ what he requires, nor zeal
enough to profess your religion at the expence of your
fortunes and dignities ? Thus again they who are im-
mersed in worldly care tell us, that were they to
think much about dying, society could not sulDsist,
arts would languish, sciences 'ecay, and so on. I deny
this principle. I affirm, society WQuld be iricom-

2 parably

2953 Christian Casuistry, ^

parably more flourishing were each member of it to
think continually of death. In such a case each would
consult his own ability, before he determined what
employment he would follow, and then we should
see none elected to public offices except such as
were capable of discharging them ; we should see
the gospel preached only by such as have abilities
for preaching ; we should see armies commanded
only by men of experience, and who possessed that
superiority of genius which is necessary to command
them. Then the magistrate, having always death
and judgment before his eyes, would think only of
the public good. Then the judge, having his eye
fixed only on the Judge of all mankind, would regard
the sacred trust committed to him, and would not
consider his rank only as an opportunity of making his
family, accumulating riches, and behaving with arro-
gance. Then the pastor, all taken up with the duties
of that important ministry which God hath committed
to him, would exercise it only to comfort the afflicted,
to visit the sick, to repress vice, to advance the king-
dom of that Jesus whose minister he hath the honour
to be, and not officiously to intrude into families to
direct them, to tyrannize over consciences, to make
a parade of gifts, and to keep alive a spirit of
party.

But, not to carry these reflections any further, you
say, society could not subsist, sciences would languish,
and arts decay, if men thought much about dying.
Very well. I agree. But I ask, is this the motive
which animates you when you turn away your
eyes from this object ? Is it fear lest the artS:
should decay, sciences languish, society disperse ?
Is it this fear which keeps you from thinking of
death ? Is it not rather because an idea of this king
of terrors disconcerts the whole system of your con-
science, stupified by a long habit of sin ; because it
urges you to restore that accursed acquisition, which

is

Christian Casuistry. -293

is the fund that supports your pageantry and pride,
because it requires you to renounce that criminal in*
trigue which makes the conversation of all companies^
and gives just offence to all good men ?

My brethren, would you always take right steps ?
Never take one without first examining the motive
which engages you to take it. Let the glory of God
be the great end of all our actions ; whether ive eat or
drink, or whatsoever we do, let us do all to the glory of
God, 1 Cor. X. 31. A motive so noble and so worthy
of that holy calling with v/hich God hath honoured
lis, will sanctify all our steps, will give worth to our
virtues, and will raise those into virtuous actions,
which seem to have the least connection with virtue.
A bustling trade, a sprightly conversation, a well
matched union, a sober recreation, a domestic amuse-
ment, all become virtues in a man animated v>dth the
glory of God ; on the contrary, virtue itself, the most
ardent zeal for truth, the most generous charities, the
most fervent prayers, knowledge the most profound,
and sacrifices the least suspicious, become vices in a
man not animated with this motive^

II. Let us ponder our steps in regard to the circum-
stances v,'hich accompany them. An action, good or
innocent in itself, may become criminal in certain cir
cumstances. This maxim is a clue to many cases of
conscience in which we choose to blind ourselves.
We obstinately consider our actions in a certain ab-
stracted light, never reahzecl, and we do not attend to
circumstances which change the nature of the action.
We think we strike a casuist dumb, when we ask him,
what is there criminal in the action you reprove ?
Hear the morality of the inspired writers.

It is allowable to attach ourselves to a pious prince,
and to push for port. Yet when Barzillai had arrived
at a certain age, he thought it his duty to flee from
court, and to quit his prince, and he said to David

^>'bo

^94 Christian Casuistry^

who invited him to court, ** I am this day fourscore
years old, and can I discern between good and evil ?
Can thy servant taste what I eat, or what I drink ? Can
I hear any more the voice of singing men, and singing
women ? Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again,
that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the
grave of my father and of my mother," 2 Sam, xix. 85, 37.

It is allowable to erect houses proportional to our
fortunes and rank. Yet the buildings of the Israelites
drew upon them the most mortifying censures, and
the most rigorous chastisements, after their return
from captivity. This was because, while their minds
were all employed about their own edifices, they took
no thought about rebuilding the temple. " Is it time
for you," said the prophet Haggai, " Is it time for you,
O ye, to dwell in your ceiled houses, and this house lie
waste ?" chap. i. 4,

It is allowable, sometimes, to join in good company,
and to taste the pleasures of the table and society ;
yet Isaiah reproached the Jews of his time in the
most cutting manner, for giving themselves up to these
pleasures, at a time when recent crimes, and approach-
ing calamities should have engaged them to acts of
repentance. ' ^* In that day did the Lord God of hosts
call to weeping, and to mourning, and to baldness, and
to girding with sackcloth ; and behold, joy and glad-r
ness, slaying oxen, and killing sheep, eating flesh, and
drinking wine. And it was revealed in mine ears by
the Lord of hosts ; surely this iniquity shall not be
purged from you till ye die, saith the Lord God of
hosts," Isa. xxii. 12, &c.

It is allowable to eat any thing, without regard to
the Levitical law. Yet St Paul declares, " If meat
make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while
the world standeth," 1 Cor. viii. 13.

How many circumstances of this kind might I add ?
Let us retain what we have heard, and let us make
these the basis of a few maxims.

The case of scandal is a circumstance which makes a

lawful

Chris fiaji Casiiistnj. -29.5

a wfiii action criminal. I infer this from the example
of St Paul just now mentioned. What is scandal ?
Of many definitions I confine myself to one.

A scandalous or offensive action is that which
must natiir:»lly make a spectator of it commit a fault.
By this touch. ^tone examine some actions, which you
think allowable, because you consider them in them-
selves, and you will soon perceive that you ought to
abstain from them. By this rule, it is not a question
only, when it is agitated as a case of con^^€ience, Is
gaming criminal or innocent ? The question is not
only, what gaming is to you, who can afford to play
without injuring your family or fortune ; the question
is, whether you ought to engage another to play with
you, who will ruin his. When a case of conscience
is made of this question — Can I, without wounding
my innocence, allow myself certain freedoms in con-
versation ? The question is not only Avhether you can
permit yourself to do so without defiling your inno-
cence, but whether you can do so without wounding
the innocence of your neighbour, who will infer from
the libertifis you take, that you have no regard to mo-
desty, and who j)erhaps may avail himself of the
license you give him.

Another circumstance, w hich makes a lawful action
criminal, is taken from the passage of Isaiah just now
mentioned. I fear suppressing a sense of present sins
and of approaching calamities. I wish, when we
have had the weakness to commit such sins as suspend
the communion of a soul vvith its God, I wish we had
the wisdom to lay aside for some time, not only cri-
minal, but even lavvful pleasures. I wish, instead of
going into conipany, even the most regular, we had
the wisdom to retire. I \yish, instead of relishing'
then the most lawful recreations, we had the wisdom
to mourn for our offending a God whose law ought
to be extremely respected by us. To take the oppo-
site coyrse then, to allow one's self pleasure, innocent

indeed

'296 Christian Casuistry,

indeed in happier times, is to discover very little sense
of that God whose commands we have just now vio-
latec ; :t is K. discover that we have very little regard
for our salvation, at a time when we have so many
just causes of doubting whether our hope to be saved
be well grounded.

The afflicted state of the church is another circum-
stance, w hich may make an innocent action criminal :
So I conclude, from the passage jnst now quoted fi nm
Haggai. Dissipations, amusemerits, festivals, ill be-
come men, who ought to be grieved for the ajfiictions
of Joseph ; or, to sj:eakmore clearly, less still become
miserable people whom the wrath oi' God pursues, and
who, being themselves as fire brands hardly plucked
out of the burnings are yet exposed to the flames of
tribulation, one in the person of his father, another
in those of his children, and all in a million of their
brethren.

Age, again, is another circumstance converting an
innocent to a criminal action. This I conclude from
the example of Barziilai. Let a young man, just en-
tering into trade, be all attention and diligence to
make his fortune ; he should be so : but that sn old
man, that a man on the brink of the grave, and who
hath already attained the age which God hath marked
for the life of mian, that such a man should be all fire
and flame for the success of his trade, just as he was
the f rst day he entered on it, that he should, so to
Speak, direct his last sigh toward money and the in-
crease of his trade, is the shame of human nature ; it
is a mark of reprobation, which ought to alarm all
that bear it.

Let a young man in the heat of his blood, a youth
yet a novice in the world, and who may promise him-
self, with some appearance of truth, to live a few
years in the world, sometimes lay aside that gravity,
which, however, &0A\€li l-eccnies men whose eyes are
tixcd on the great chjects of religion ; let him, 1 say, I

forgive

Christian Casuistry, 297

1 forgive him ; but that an old man, whom long expe-
rience should have rendered wise, that he should be
fond of pleasure, that he should make a serious affair
of distinguishing himself by the elegance of his table,
that he should go every day to carry his skeleton, wan
and tottering, into company employed in the amuse-
ments of youth ; this is the shame of human nature,
this is a mark of reprobation which ought to terrify all
that bear it.

III. Would we have all our ways established ? Let
us examine the manners that accompany them. An
action good in itself, yea, more, the most essential du-
ties of religion become criminal, when they are not
performed vv ith proper dispositions. One of the most
essential duties of religion is to assist the poor ; yet
this duty will become a crime, if it he performed with
haughtiness, hardness, and constraint. It is not enough
to assist the poor ; the duty must be done with such
circumspection, humanity, and joy, astheapostle speaks
of, when he says, God loveth a chearful giver, 2 Cor.
ix. \ Another most essential duty of religion is to in-
terest one's self in the happiness of our neighbour, and
if he turn aside from the path of salvation, to bring
him back again. Tkou shalt in anij wise rebuke thy
iiei^Jibourl* and not suffer sin upon Imn : thus God spoke
by his servant Moses, Lev. xix. 17. Exhort one ano-
ther daily : this is a precept of St Paul, Heb. iii. 1 3.
To this may he added the declaration of St James :
If any of you do err from the truth, and one convert
him, let him know, thai he ivhich converteth the sinner
from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death,
and shall hide a multitude of sins, chap. v. i9, 20. But
this duty would become a crime, were we to rebuke a
neighbour with bitterness, were the reproof m«)re satire
than exhortation, were weto assumeairs of haughtiness,
and discover that we intended less to cen-ure the vices
of others than to display our own imaginary excellen-
cies. It is not enough to rebuke a neighbour ; it must

be

299 Christian Casuist?y.

he done with all those charitable concomitants, which
are so proper to make the most bitter censures palate?
able ; it must be done with that modesty, or, may I
say, with that bashfulness which proves that it is not
a spirit of self-sufficiency that reproves our neighbour,
but that it is because we interest ourselves in his hap-
piness, and are jealous of his glory.

IV. Our fourth maxim is, that an action good in
itself may become cripiinal by being extended beyond
its proper limits. It was said of a fine genius of the
last age, that he never quitted a beautiful thought till
he had entirely disfigured it. The observation was
perfectly just in regard to the author, to whom it
was applied ; the impetuosity of his imagination made
him overstrain the most sensible things he advanced,
so that what was truth, when he began to propose it,
became an error in his mouth by the extreme to
which he carried it. In like manner, in regard to a
certain order of christians, virtue becomes vice in their
practice, because they extend it beyond proper
bounds. Their holiness ought always to be restrained,
and after they have been exhorted to righteousness
and wisdom, it is necessary to say to them with the
wise man. Be not 7'ighleous over-much, neither make thyr
self overrwiset Eccles. vii. 17. an idea adopted by St
Paul, Rom. xii. 3. •

Be not righteous over-much^ neither make thyself over-
wise in regard to the mysteries of religion. As people
sometimes lose their lives by diving, so sometimes
people become unbelievers by believing too much. It
is not uncommon to see christians so eager to elucidate
the difficulties of the book of Ptevelation as not to per-
ceive clearly the doctrine of evangelical morality.

Be not 7'ighteous over-much, neither make thyself over-
wise in regard to charity. The laws of equity march
before those of charity ; or rather the laws of charity
?ire founded on those of equity. To neglect to sup-
|>ort fi family and to satisfy creditors, under pretence

of

Christian Casuistry. 299

of relieving the poor, is not charity, and giving alms ;
but it is rapine, robbery, and iniquity.

Be not righteous over-much^ neither make thyself over-
wise in regard to closet devotion. So to give one's self
up to the devotion of the closet as to lose sight of what
we owe to society ; to be so delighted with praying to
God as not to hear the petitions of the indigent ; to
devote so much time to meditation as to reserve none
for an oppressed person who requires our assistance,
for a widow who beseeches us to pity the cries of her
hungry children ; this is not piety, this is vision, this
is enthusiasm, this is sophism of zeal, if I may express
myself so.

Be not righteous over-much, neither maJce'thyself over^^
wise in regard to distrusting yourselves, and fearing
the judgments of God. I know, the greatest saints
have reason to tremble, when they consider themselves
in some points of light. I know Jobs and Davids have
exclaimed. If I may justify myself ?nine own inouth
shall condejnn me. If thou. Lord, shouldst mark iniqui^
ties, O Lord, luho shall stand? Job. ix. 20. Psal. cxxx.
3. I knoWj one of the most powerful motives which
the inspired writers have used, to animate the heart*
of men with piety, is fear, according to this exclamation
of Solomon, Happy is the man that feareth alway. Pro v.
xxviii. 1 4. and according to this idea of St Paul, Know-
ing the terror of the Lord, we persuade m^n, 2 Cor. v.
11. I know, the surest method to strengthen our vir-
tue is to distrust ourselves, according to this expression^
Let him that ihinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall ^
1 Cor. x. 12.

However, it is certain, some fears of God procee4
rather from the irregularity of the imagination, than
from a wise and well directed piety. Fear of the judgr
ments of God is sometimes a passion, which hath this
in common with all other passions, it loves to employ
itself about what favours, cherishes, and supports it ;
it is reluctant to approach what would diminish, de-
feat^

300 Christian Casuistry.

feat, and destroy it. Extremes of vice touch extremes
of virtue, so that we have no sooner passed over the
bounds of virtue, than we are entangled in tlie irregu-
larities of vice.

Y. We said in the fifth place, that each ought to pon-
der his path with regard to that degree of holiness at
which the mercy of God hath enabled him to arrive.
An action good in itself, when it is performed by a
man arrived at a certain degree of holiness, becomes
criminal, when it is done by him who hath only an
inferior degree. There never was an opinion more
absurd and more dangerous than that of some mys-
tics, known by the name o{ Molinists. They affirmed,
that when the soul was lodged at I know not what
distance from the body, that when it was in I know
not what state, which they called abandonvient, it par-
took no more of the irregularities of the body which
it animated, so that the most impure actions of the
body could not defile it, because it knew how to de-
tach itself from the body.

What kind of extravagance can one imagine, of
which poor mankind have not given an example? Yet
the apostle determines this point with so much preci-
sion, that one would think it was impossible to mistake
it. Unto the pure all things are pure ; but unto iJiem that
are defJed and unbelieving, nothing is pure^ Titus i. 15,
I recollect the sense which a celebrated bishop in the
isle of Cyprus gave these words in the first ages of the
thurcb. I speak rf Spiridion. A traveller, exhausted
v.ith the fatigue cA his journey, waited on him on a
day which the church had set apart for fasthig. Spiri-
dion instantly ordered some refreshment for him, and
invited him by his own example to eat. No, I must
not eat, said the stranger, because I am a christian.
And because you are a christian, replied the bishop to
him, you may eat without scruple, agreeably to the
cfeeision of an apo&tle, Unto the pure all things are pure.

We

Christian Casuistry, 801

We cannot be ignorant of the shameful aliiise which
some have made of this maxim. We know some have
extended it even to the most essential articles of po-
sitive law, which no one can violate without sin. We
know particularly the insolence with which some place
themselves in the list of those pure persons, of whom
the apostle speaks, although their gross ignorance and
novel divinity may justly place them in the opposite
class. But the abuse of a maxim ought not to prevent
the lawful use of it. There are some things which are
criminal or lawful, according to the degree of know-
ledge and holiness of him who performs them. " Unto
the pure all things are pure ; but unto them that are
defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure." Would you
then know how far to carry your scruples in regard to
some steps ? Examine sincerely, and with rectitude,
to what degree you are pure in this respect. I mean^
examine sincerely and uprightly, whether you be so
far advanced in Christianity, as not to endanger your
faith and holiness by this step.

Do you enquire whether you may, without scruple,
read a work intended to sap the foundation of Chris-
tianity ? Examine yourself. A man arrived at a cer-
tain degree of knowledge, is confirmed in the faith,
even by the objections v, hich are proposed to him to
engage him to renounce his religion. ** Unto the pure
all things are pure." If you answer this description,
read without scruple Lucretius, Spinoza, and all the
other ejiemies of religion. The darkness with which
they pretend to cover it, will only advance its splen-
dour in your eyes. The blows which they gave it,
will only serve to convince you that it is invulnerable.
But if you be yet a child in understanding, as an apostle
speaks, such books may be dangerous to you ; poison
without an antidote, will convey itself into your vitals,
and destroy all the powers of your soul.

Would you know whether you may, without scruple,
mix with the world? Examine yourself. " Uiito the

pure

$02 Christian Casuistftj.

pure all things are pure." A man arrived at a certain
degree of holiness, derives, from an intercourse with
the worlds only pity for the world. Examples of vice
serv^e only to confirm him in virtue. If you answer this
description, go into the world without scruple ; but if
your virtue be yet weak, if intercourse with the world
disconcert the frame of your mind, if the pleasures of
the world captivate your imaginatioHj and leave im-
pressions which you cannot efface ; if, after you have
passed a few hours in the world, you find it follows
you, even when you wish to get rid of it, then what
can you do so proper as to retreat from an enemy dan-
gerous to virtue. " Unto the pure all things are pure ;
but unto them that are defiled, nothing is pure."

VI. In fine, if we wish our ways should be esta-
blished, let us weigh them with the different judgments
which we ourselves form concerning them. The
meaning of the maxims, the substance of what we
daily hear in the world, and which the writings of
libertines have rendered famous, that youth is the
season for pleasure, and that we should make the most
of it ; that fit opportunities should not be let slip,
because they so seldom happen, and that not to avail
ourselves of them, would discover ignorance of one's
self; the substance of this sophism (shall I say of in-
firmity or impiety ?) is not new. If some of you
urge this now, so did the Jews in the time of Isaiah.
This prophet was ordered to inform them, that they
had sinned to the utmost bounds of the patience of
God ; that there remained only one method of pre-
venting their total ruin, that was fasting, mourning,
baldness, and girding with sackcloth ; in a word, exer-
cises of lively and genuine repentance. These pro-
fane people, from the very same principle on which
the prophet grounded the necessity of their conversion,
drew argurfients to embolden them in sin *, they slew
oxen, they killed sheep, they gave themselves up to

unbridled

Christian Casuistri/, $03

tinbri<lled intemperance, and tliey said, " Let us est
find drink, for to-morrow we shall die."

This is precisely tlie maxim of our libertines. "Vouth
is the season foi* pleasure, and we should improve it ;
opportunities of enjoyment are rare; we should be
enemies to ourselves not to avail ourselves of them>
Would not one say, on hearing this language, that an
old mai3, going out o£ the world, must needs regret
that lie d^ not give himself up to pleasure in his
youth ? Would not one suppose that the sick, in beds
of infirmity and pain, must needs reproach themselves
for not spending their health and strength in luxury
aiid debauchery? Would not one imagine, that the
despair of the damned through all eternity, will pro-
ceed from their recollecting that they checked their
passions ki this world ?

On the contrary, what will poison the years of youi"
old age, should you arrive at it ; what will aggravate
tJie pains, and envenom the disquietudes inseparable
from old age, will be tiie abuse you made of your
youth.

So in sickness, reproaclies and remorse will rise out
of a recollection of crimes committed whe!i you was
well, and will change your death-bed mto an antici-
pated hell. Then thou miserable wretch, who makest
thy belly thy God, the remembrance of days and nights
consumed in drunkenness, will aggravate every pain
which thine intemperate life hath brought upon thee^
Then, thou miserable man, who incessantly renderest
an idolatrous worship to thy gold, saying to it, in acts
of supreme adoration, Thou art my coiijidence ; then
will the rust of it be a witness against thee, and eat
thy flesh, as it were with fire. Then, unhappy man,
whose equipages, retinue, and palaces, are the fruits of
oppression and injustice, then *' the hire of the labour-
ers which have reaped down thy fields, which is of
tliee kept back by fraud, will cry, and the cries of the
reapers will enter into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth ;*'*

then

S04« Christian Casuistry,

then " the stone shall cry out of the wall, and the
beam out of the thiiber shall answer it." Then, mi-
serable v/retch, thou who makest the meinhers of Christ
the members of an harlot, then that Drusilla, who now
fascinates thine eyes, who seems to thee to unite in
her person all manner of accomplishments ; that
Drusilla Avho makest thee forget what thou owest to
the world and the church, to thy children, thy fami-
ly, thy God, and thy soul, that Drusilla will appear
to thee as the centre of all horrors ; then she, who
always appeared to thee as a goddess, will become as
dreadful as a fury ; then, like that abominable man,
of whom the holy scriptures speak, who carried his
brutality so far as to offer violence to a sister, whose
honour ought to have been to him as dear as his own
life ; then will " the hatred wherewith thou hatest
her, he greater than the love wherewith thou hadst
loved her/' 2 Sam. xiii. 15.

The same in regard to the damned ; what will give
weight to the chains of darkness with which they will
be loaded, what will augment the voracity of that
worm which will devour them, and the activity of
the flavwe? which v/ill consume them in a future
state, vfn be the reproaches of their own consciences
for the headlong impetuosity of their passions in this
world.

My brethren, the best direction we can follow for
the establishment of our ways, is frequently to set the
judgment which we shall one day form of them,
asfainst that which we now form. Let us often think
of our death-bed. Let us often realize that terrible
moment, which will close time, and open eternity.
Let us often put this question to ourselves. What
judgment shall I form of that kind of life which I
now lead, when a burning fever consumes my blood,
when unsuccessful remedies, when useless cares, when
a pale physician, Avhen a weeping family, when all
around shall announce to rae the approach of death ?

What

Christian Casuistry. 305

What should I then think of those continual dissipa-
tions which consume the most of my time ; what of
those puerile amusements, which take up all my at-
tention ; what of these anxious fears, v/hich fill all the
capacity of my soul ; what of these criminal pleasures,
which infatuate me ; what judgment shall I make of
all these things, in that terrible day, when the powers
ef the heavens shall be shaken, when the foundations
of the earth shall shake, when the earth shall reel to
and fro like a drunkard, when the elements shall melt
with fervent heat, when the great white throne shall
appear, when the judge shall sit, and the books be
opened, in which all my actions, words, and thoughts
are registered?

If we follow these maxims, we shall see all objects
with new eyes ; we shall trem.ble at some ways which
Me now approve ; we shall discover gulphs in the road,
in which we walk at present without suspicion of dan-
ger.

I said at the beginning, my brethren, and I repeat
it again, in finishing this exercise, the text we have
been explaining includes a voluminous subject, more
proper to make the matter of a large treatise than that
of a single sermon. The reflections, which we have
been making, are only a slight sketch of the maxims
with which the wise man intended to inspire us. All
we have said will be entirely useless, unless you enlarge
by frequent meditation the narrow bounds in which
we have been obliged to include the subject.

Ponder tjie path of thy feet, and all thy ivays shall he
established. Who weighs, who calculates, wlio con-
nects and separates before he believes and judges, be-
fore he esteems and acts ? The least probability perr
suades us ; the least object, that sparkles in our eyes,
dazzles us ; the least appearance of pleasure excites,
fascinates, and fixes us, We determine questions on
which our eternal destiny depends, with a levity and
precipitancy, which we should be ashamed of in cases
of the least importance in temporal affairs. ' Accord-

voL. IV. u ing^y

$06 Christian Casuidry,

ingly, the manner in which we act, perfectly a^ees
with the inattention with which we determine the
reason of acting. We generally spend life in a way
very unbecoming intelligent beings, to whom God
hath given a power of reflecting, and more like crea-
tures destitute of intelligence, and wholly incapable of
reflection.

in order to obey the precept of the wise man, we
should collect our thoughts every morning, and never
begin a day without a cool examination of the whole bu-
siness of it. We should recollect ourselves every night,
and never finish a day, without examining deliberately
how we have employed it. Before we go out of our
houses, each should ask himself. Whither am I going?
In what company shall I bie ? What temptations m^II
assault me ? What opportunities of doing good offer
tome? When we return to our houses, each should
ask himself, Where have I been ? What has my con-
versation in company been ? Did I avail myself of
every opportunity of doing good ?

My brethren, how invincible soever our depravity
may appear, how deeply rooted soever it may be,
how powerful soever tyrannical habits may be over us,
we should make rapid advances in the road of virtue,
were we often to enter into ourselves ; on the contrary,
while v\^e act, and determine, and give ourselves up
without reflection and examination, it is impossible
our conduct should answer our calling.

My brethren, shall I tell you all my heart? This
meditation troubles me, it terrifies me, it confounds
me. 1 have been forming the most ardent desires for
the success of this discourse; and yet I can hardly en-
tertain a hope tliat you will relish it. I have been ex-
horting you %vith all the power and ardour of which I
am capable ; and, if you will forgive me for saying so,
with the zeal which I ought to have for your salva-
tion ; I have been exhorting you not to be discou-
rac>-cd at the number and the difficulties of the duties
^ ^ whicb

Christian Casuistry, 307

which the wise man prescribes to you ; but, I am afraid,
I know you too well to promise myself that you will
acquit yourselves with that holy resolution and courage
which the nature of the duties necessarily demands.

May God work in you, and in me, more than 1 can
ask or think ! God grant us intelligent minds, that we
may act like intelligent souls ! May that God, wiio
hath set before us life and death, heaven and hell,
boundless felicity and endless misery, may lie so direct
our steps, that we may arrive at that happiness which
is the object of our wishes, and which ought to be the
object of all our care ! God grant us this grace ! To
him be honour and glory for ever. Amen.

vSERMON

SERMON XIL

The Necessity of p7'ogressive Religion^

1 Corinthians, ix. 26, 27.

/ therefore so run, not as uncertainly : sofght /, not as
one that heateth the air. Bui I keep under my hody^
and bring it into subjection ; lest that by any means^
when I have preached to others, I myself shouia be a
cast-away.

My Brethren,

npFlAT was a fine eulogiiim, which was made on
one of the most famous generals of antiquity.
It was said of him, that he thought there was nothing
done while there remained any thing to do. To embrace
such a system of war and politics, was to open a wide
field of painful labour ; but Caesar aspired to be a
hero, and there was no way of obtaining his end, ex-
cept that which he chose. Whoever arrives at worldly
heroism, arrives at it in this way. By this marvellous
secret, the Roman eagles flew to the uttermost parts of
Asia, rendered Gaul tributary, swelled the Rhine with
German blood, subjugated Britain, pursued the shat-*
tered remains of Pompey's army into the deserts of
Africa, and caused all the rivers tjiat fell into the

Adriatic

SiO The Necessity/ of progressive Religion

Adriatic sea, to roll along the sound of their victories.
My brethren, success is not necessarily connected
with heroism ; the Ifero Caesar was a common misfor-
tune, all his heroism public robbery, fatal to the re-
public, and more so to Caesar himself. But, in order
to be saved, it is necessary to succeed ; and there is no
other way of obtaining salvation, except that laid down
by this great general, think nothing done, while there i^
any thing to do. Behold, in the words of our text, be-
hold a man, who perfectly knew the way to heaven, a
man most sincerely aspiring to salvation. What doth
he to succeed ? What we have said ; he accounted all
he had done nothing, while there remained any thing
more to do. After he had carried virtue to its highest
pitch, after he had made the most rapid progress, and
obtained the most splendid triumphs in the road of
salvation, still he ran, still he fought, he undertook
new mortifications, always fearing lest lukewarmness
and indolence should frustrate his aim of obtaining the
prize which had always been an object of his hope ;
** I therefore so run, not as uncertainly ; so fight I,
not as one that beateth the air. But I keep under my
body, and bring it into subjection : lest that by any
means, when I have preached to others, I myself
'Should be a cast-away.'*

St Paul lives no more. This valiant champion hath
already conquered. But you, you christians, are
yet alive ; like him, the race is open before you, and
to you now, as well as to him formerly, a voice from
heaven crieth, " To him that overcometh will I
g-rant to sit with me in my throne," Rev. iii. 21.
Happy, if animated by his example, you share with
him a prize, which loses nothing of its excellence, by
the number of those who partake of it ! Happy, if
you be able one day to say with him, " I have
fought a good fight, I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for
me a crown of righteousness, whieh the Lord the right-
eous

The Necessity of py-ogressive Religion, 31 1

eaus Jiide;-e shall give me at that day ; and not to me
only, but unto all them that love his appearing !"
2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.

Let us first make one general remark on the ex-
pressions of the text ; they are a manifest allusion to
the games which were celebrated among the heathens.
Fable, or history, tells iis, that Pelops invented them,
that Hercules and Atreus brought them to perfection,
that Iphitus restored them ; all which signify very
little to us. What is certain is, that these games were
celebrated with great pomp. They were so solemn
among the Greeks, that they made use of them to
mark memorable events and public eras, that of con-
suls at Rome, of archons at Athens, of priestesses at
Argos. They passed from Greece to Italy, and were
so much in vogue at Rome, that an ancient author
said, two things were necessary to the Roman people —
bread and public shews. It is needless to repeat here
what learned men have collected on this subject, we
will remark only ^\'hat may serve to elucidate our
text, all the ideas of which are borrowed from these
exercises.

1. In these games the most remarkable G])ject was
the course. The ground^ oi\ which the games were
celebrated, was marked out with great exactness.
In some places lines were drawn, and the place of
combat railed, and when he who ran went beyond
the line, he ran to no purpose. It was dangerous to
ramble, especially in some places, as in Greece, where
the space was bounded on one side by the river Al-
pheus, and on the other by a sort of cheveaiix de
frise ; as at Rome, where before the construction of
the circus, which was afterwards built on purpose for
spectacles of this sort, an area was chosen, on one
side of which vvas a chevaux de frise, and on the
other the Tiber^ so that the combatant could not
pass the bounds prescribed to him without exposing
himself to the danger either of being v/ounded by

the

S12 The Necessity of progressive Religion.

the spikes, or drowned in the waves. This is the first
emblem, which our apostle uses here ; / run, alluding
to the course in general ; / do not run uncertainly, in
allusion tasuch combatants as, by passing the boun-
daries, lost the fruit of their labour.

2. Among other games were those of wrestling and
boxing. Address in these combats consisted in not
aiming any blow which did not strike the adversary.
He who had not this address, was said to heat the air ;
and hence came the proverb to beat the air, to signify
labouring in vain*. This is the second allusion of St
Paul, I Jight, not as one thai beateth the air.

3, The combatants observed a particular regimen,
to render themselves more active and vigorous. The
time, the quantity, and the nature of their aliments
were prescribed, and they punctually complied with
the rules. They laid aside every thing likely to ener-
vate them. " Would you obtain a prize in the Olym-
pic games ? said a pagan philosopher, a noble design !
But consider the preparations and consequences.
You must live by rule, you must eat when you are not
hungry, you must abstain from agreeable foods, yo>A
must habituate yourself to suffer heat and cold ; in one
Avord, you must give yourself up entirely to a physi-
cian j-." By these means the combatants acquired
such health and strength, that they could bend with
the greatest ease such bows as horses could hardly
bend ; hence the health of a cha^npion was a common
proverb :j: to express a strong hale state. As this
regimen was exact, it was painful and trying. It was
necessary not only to surmount irregular desires, but
all those exercises must be positively practised which
were essential to victorious combatants : It was not
sufficient to observe them a little while, they must be
wrought by long preparation into habits, without

which

* Eustat. in Homer. Iliad.

t Epict. cap. ,36. Voi, Plat, de legibus, lib. 8.

* Hor. Alt. Poet. Julian de Laud. Const.. Orat. i.

The Necessily of progressive Beligiofi. 313

which the agility and vigour acquired by repeated
labours would be lost; witness that famous champion,
w^ho, after he had often and gloriously succeeded, was
shamefully conquered, because he had neglected the
regimen for six months, during which tune a do-
mestic affair had obliged him to reside at Athens '■.
This is the third allusion which our apostle makes iu
the text, / keep render mij hodij, and bring it into sub-
jection.

Let us observe, by the way, that these expressions of
our apostle have been abused to absurd though de-
votional purposes ; and, to omit others, it was an
abuse of these expressions which produced the ex--
travagant sect of the Flagellants f . All Italy in the
thirteenth century was seized with a panic, which
ended in the birth of this sect. The next century,
the Germans being afflicted with a plague, it filled all
Germany ; and the folly of Henry IIL king of France,
joined to that mean complaisance which induces
courtiers to go into all the caprices of their masters,
introduced it into that kingdom, and into that king-
dom it went with so much fury, that Charles, cardinal
of Lorrain, actually killed himself by adhering too
closely to its maxims during a rigorous winter i.

What a wide field opens here to our meditation,
were it necessary to shew the absurdity of such devo-
tions !

We might shew, that they owe their origin to pa-
ganism, Plutarch says, that, in the city of I^ceJemon,
they were sometimes pursued even to death in honour
of Diana H- Herodotus speaks to the same purpose
concerning the festival of the great goddess in Egypt §.
In like manner Philostratus speaks of the devotions
performed in honour of the Scythian Diana ^"^'. Thus
also Apuleius concerning the priests of the goddess

of

* Bauddot de Dairval. Hist, de Ptolomee Auletes, pag. 6l. c. <?.

+ Hospinian. Hist. Monach. Boileau. Hist, des FlageDans.

t De Thou, Hist. liv. 59. 1| Plutarch Vit. Lycurg.

§ Eutrop. hv. ii. ch. 41, ** De Vit. Apollon. hb. vi. c. 20.

314 The Necessity/ of progressive Religion.

of Syria * ; and thus authors more credible, I meaii the
writers of the Book of Kings, concerning the priests of
Baal.

We might shew the weakness of the arguments on
which such practices are founded ; as fabulous mira-
cles, and, among many others, a letter brought by an
angel from heaven to Jerusalem, which declared, that
the blessed virgin having implored pardon for the
guilty, God had replied, that their pardon should be
granted on condition they whipped themselves in this
manner f .

We might produce the weighty reasons wdiich
many of the Roman communion, and among others
Gerson and De Thou, urged against such practices,
and the testimonies of our scriptures, which expressly
forbid them ; but we will content ourselves with ob-
serving, that the words of our text have nothing that
can serve even for a plausible pretence for these super-
stitions. AVe said St Paul alluded to the regimen
observed by combatants ; combatants observed that
kind of life, which was most proper to fit them for
their profession ; in like manner, St Paul observed Avhat
fitted him for his. Were it possible to prove, that
mortifications and macerations Were necessary to this
purpose, we should not then have a right to determine
that the apostle had his eye on such services here.
For our parts, we think, he intended all acts of re-
pentance prescribed in scripture, and exemplified by
the saints ; as silence, retirement, fasting, abstinence
from criminal pleasures, and so on.

4. Further, there were persons who presided over
the Pagan games. They were called heralds. The
name given them in the Greek language is precisely
the same which in our language is rendered preacher.
Their office was expressed by a word which signifies
to preach. It consisted in proclaiming the game, di-
recting'

* L'Ane d'Or, liv. vlii.

t Bosius Annal. under the year 1349.

The Necessity of progressive Religion. S15

reeling the combatants, enoourag-mg tlie weak, ani
mating the valiant, exposing tlie prize to public
view, and giving it to the victor. This is the fourth
allusion of oitr apostle, lest when I hcwe preaiched to
others. The original word which we have translated
preached, is the very word which is used to describe
the office of such as presided at the games ; and St
Paul, by u^ing this term, gives u? a beautiful idea af
the apostleship, and, in general, of the gospel ministr}^
What is the office of a minist<Br of the gospel ? We
publish the race, we describe tl^e good works, which
God hath before ordained, that vje should walk hi them :
we animate you l)y often saying, r?ni wilh patience ike
race that is set before 'jjou : we lift up to public view
tiie prize, and in the name of God we cry, so run that
you maij obtain. Happy if you al! attend to this voice,
and if, while a few are eagerly and constantly running
the race set before them., others do not run more eager-
ly cross tlie space, like those unhappy people just now
mentioned, who werC' wounded with iron spikes or
drowned in the waves.

5. In fine. The last remiark we m.ake on pagan
games regards the dilT'erent destiny of tlie combatants.
The conquered derived no advantage from their pains ;
but the victors were covered with honours and advan-
tages : they were distinguished in all public assem-
blies ; they were called by the high soimding name of
Olympian ; they were crowned with great ceremony ;
statues were erected to their honour, and breaches
were made in the walls of cities to admit them
with the greater pornp. This is the fifth allusion
which the apostle here makes to the games, lest I
should be a casi-awai). A cast-away ; the heathens ap-
plied this word to such combatarits as entered theiists
iiit did not obtain the prize.

Such were the games celebrated t-hrougii s^\ Greece,
and in particular at the city of Philippic where St
Paul wrote tliis epistle, ajKl m that of Corinth, to

^■l}icli

SI 6 The Necessity of progressive Religion,

which it is addressed. The believer is a stranger on
earth, he sees there a thousand delights, of which he
doth not partake. The eyes of Paul, at Philippi, more
properly his ears, (for St Paul hardly attended public
amusements,) were struck with the fame and magni^
ficence of these games. The Corinthians were in the
same condition. How hard is it to live in a country,
and to be excluded from the pleasures of the inhabi-
tants ! St Paul strengthens the Corinthians and him-
self against these temptations; he rises from sensual to
spiritual pleasures, and says, he hath also an area, a
race, a crown, a triumph. " I therefore so run, not
as uncertainly ; so fight I, not as one that beateth the
air. But I keep under my body, and bring it into
subjection, lest that by any means, when I have preached
to others, I myself should be a cast-away.'*

We have explained the terms and allusions of the
apostle. His meaning is sufficiently clear. / keep
under vvj hody, and so on, does not mean, as some in-
terpreters have it, I halt between hope of salvation,
and fear of destruction ; an interpretation directly op-
posite to that assurance which St Paul expresses in
many parts of his epistles, and particularly in this fa-
mous passage, which we have elsewhere explained,
" i am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor an-
gels, nor princijialities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other
creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of
God," Rom. viii. 38, 39. But / keep under mij hody ;
and the rest means, whatever progress I have riiade in
a career of virtue, all my past eftbrts would be useless,
should I spend the rest of my life in idleness and in-
difierence, and I could not expect, even by the assist-
ance of grace, to arrive at glory^

Let us now justify this disposition of our apostle^
and let us prove this geneial truth, that there is no
point fixed, at which a christian may stop ; that each
portion of life hath its task; that to what degree soever

we

The Necessity of progressive Religion, SI 7

we have carried our sanctification, unless we carry it
further, go on and persevere, we should act contrary
to the spirit and temper of the gospel. This is the
princiiiai design of this discourse.

1 Let us first examine the example of St Paul. St
Paul did not think that if he lived hereafter in indor
lence without endeavouring to make new advances, he
had any right to expect the benefits of the gospel i
No christian, therefore, living in indolence, and making
no new advances, ought to flatter himself that he is
entitled to the blessings of the gospel. In order to
perceive this consequence, form a just notion of the
virtues of our apostle, and consider Paul as a zealot,
Paul as a proselyte, Paul as an apostle, aiid Paul as a
martyr, and you will allow he was a great character, a
christian of the highest order, and that if, with all his
eminent virtues, he thought himself obliged to acquire
yet more eminent virtue, every christian ought to
form the same idea of his own duty.

Consider Paul as a zealot. Perhaps you may be sur-
prized at our passing an encomium on this part of his
life. Certainly we shall not undertake to make an
apology for that cruel and barbarous zeal which made
use of fire and blood, and which put racks for argu-
ments, and gibbets for demonstrations. But the purest
life hath its blots ; and the most generous heart its
frailties. In that fatal necessity of imperfection which
is imposed on all mankind, there are some defiled
streams, so to speak, which flow from pure springs,
some people, and the apostle was one, who sin from
an excess of virtue. What idea then must we form
of this man^ and what shall we say of his virtues, since
his vices were effects of such an excellent cause ? This
odious part of his life, which he wished to bury iu
oblivion, that barbarity and madness, that industry to
inflame the synagogue, and to stir up all the world,
all this, strictly speaking, and properly explained,
was worthy of praise. He maintained error. \\ hy ?
'^ Because

SIS 'The Necessity of progressive Religion.

Because he thoug-ht it was truth, and respected it ac-
cordingly. He persecuted, because he loved ; he was
mad, because he was zealous ; zeal, as I said just now,
misguided, but zeal, however ; a criminal indiscretion
indeed, but an indiscretion, which in a moral abstrac-
tion may be considered as a virtue.

Consider Paul as a proselyte. A man educated in
opinions opposite to Christianity, infatuated with popu^
lar errors, prejudiced with ideas of a temporal Messiah,
accustomed to consider Jesus Christ as an impostor,
and his religion as a plot concerted by knaves, this man
change? his ideas, and his whole system of religion, an(J
worships the crucified Jesus, who was to ike Jew a
stumbling block, and to the Cyreek foolishness y 1 Cor. i
23. The first lesson from heaven persuades him, the
first knock at the door of his heart opens it, his con*
version is effected in a moment. I went not up to tJeru^
salem, said he; / covf erred not wiihjlcsh aiid bloody Gal.
i. 16, 17. What a fund of virtue mstantiy had this
man in his heart ! Of all characters in life there are
few so respectable as that of a real proselyte. A man
who changes his religion en pure principles, hath a
greatness of soul above common men. I venture to ad-
vance this general maxim, that a man who changes
his religion, must be consummate either in virtue or
vice. If he be insincere, he is a wretch ; if he be not
a wretch, he is a hero. He is a hero if his virtue be
sincere, if he makes generous etlorts to correct errors
imbibed in his earliest youth, if he can see without
trembiing that path of tribulation which is generally
evened to such as forsake their religion, and if he can
bear all the suppositions which are generally made
against them who renounce the profession of their an-
cestors ; if, I say, he can do all this, he is a hero. On
the contrary, none but a wretch can embark in such
an undertaking, if he » <^ destitute of the dispositions
necessary to success. ^A Ikv^ such a man forsakes his
former profession of peiigion, there is reason to sup-
pose

The Necessity of progressive Religion, 319

pose that human motives have done what love of truth
covild not do ; and that he embraceth his new reHgion,
not because it appears to him more worthy of his at-
tention and respect, but because it is more suitable to his
interest. Now to embrace a religion for worldly interest
is almost the highest pitch of wickedness. Our maxim
admits of very few exceptions, and most proselytes are
either men of eminent virtue or abandoned wretches ;
and as we are happy to acknowledge there are several
of the first kind in this age, so with sorrow we are
obliged to allow, that there are a great number of the
latter. Let St Paul be judged by the utmost rigour
of this maxim. He was a hero in Christianity. The
prmciple that engaged him to embrace the gospel, dif-
fused itself through all his life, and every one of his
actions verified the sincerity of his conversion.

St Paul was born for great things ; he it was whoni
God chose for an apostle to the gentiles. He did not
stop in the porch of the Lord's house, he quickly passed
into the holy place ; he was only a very short time a
catechumen in the school of Christ ; he soon became a
master, a minister, an apostle; and in all these eminent
offices he carried virtue to a higher pitch than it had
ever been carried before him, and perhaps beyond what
it will ever be practised after him. In effect, what
qualities ought a minister of the gospel to possess
wliich St Paul did not possess in the highest degree ?
Is it assiduity ? " Ye remember, brethren," said he,
" our labour and travel, for labouring night and day
we preached unto you the gospel of God," 1 Thess. ii.
9. Is it gentleness ? " We were gentle among you,
even as a nurse cherisheth her children. You know
how we exhorted, and comforted, and charged every
one of you, as a father doth his children, that ye would
walkworthy of God,"chap.ii. 7,1 1, 12. Is it prudence?
" Unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain
the Jews ; to them that are without law as without
law, that I might gain them that are v/ithout law. I

am

620 The Necessity of progressive Religion,

am made all thing-s to all men, that I mij^lit by all
means save some," 2 Cor. ix. 20, 22. Is it charity ?
*•' I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ
for my brethren," Rom. ix. 3. *' I will very gladly
spend and be spent for you," 2 Cor. xii. 15. Is it cou-
rage ? He resisted St Peter, and " withstood him to
the face, because he was to be blamed," Gal. ii. 11.
He reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judg-
ment to come, before Felix and Drusilla, Acts xxiv.
2.3. Is it disinterestedness in regard to the world ?
'' We sought not glory of men, neither of you, nor yet
of others. We speak the gospel not as pleasing men,
but God which trieth our hearts," 1 Thess. ii. 6, 4. Is
it zeal ? His spirit was stirred in him at Athens,
when he saw the city wholly given to idolatry, Acts
xvii. 16. Then, like the prophet of old, he became
*' very jealous for the Lord of hosts," I Kings xix. 10.
Is it to support the honour of his ministry ? " Let a
man so account of us, as of the ministers of Christ," 1
Cor. iv. 1 . '• We are ambassadors for Christ, as though
God did beseech you by us," 2 Cor. v. 20. " It were
better for me to die, than that any man should make
my glorying void," 1 Cor. ix. 15. Jesus Christ was
the model, by which St Paul formed himself: " be ye
followers of me, even as I also am of Christ," chap,
xi. I. When students turn their attention to the
christian ministry,models of such as have distinguished
themselves in this office are proposed to their imitation.
The imagination of one, the judgment of another, the
gravity of a third, and the learning of a fourth are
set before them, and from good originals very often
we receive bad copies. St Paid chose his pattern.
His master, his model, his original, his all was Jesus
Christ, and he copied every stroke of his original, " be
ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ."

But, though it is abvays commendable to discharge
this holy office well, yet it is particularly so in some
circumstances; and our apostle was in such, for he
pfT'ciated when the whole world was enraged against

christians^

The Necessity of progressive Religion. 821

christians. Consider him then on thestagt? ofmartyr-
dom. What would now be our glory was then his dis-
grace ; assiduity, gentleness, zeal, and all the other
virtues just now mentioned, drew upon him the most
envenomed jealousy, accusations the most atrocious,
and persecutions the most cruel. It was in this light,
God set the ministry before him at first, " I will shew
him how great thing's he must suffer for my name sake^'^
Acts ix. 16. Shew him how great things he must suffef
for my name sake ! What a motive to engage a man to
tmdertake an office ! Now-a-days, in order to give a
great idea of a church, it is said, it hath such and such
advantages, so much in cash, so much in small tithes,
and so much in great tithes. St Paul saw the ministry
only as a path full of thorns and briars, and he expe-
rienced, through all the course of his life, the truth of
that idea which was given him of his office. Hear
the catalogue of his sufferings. " Of the Jews five
times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I
beaten with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I sufferecJ
shipwreck ; a night and day have I been in the deep.'
In journeyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of
robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils
by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the
wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false
brethren ; in w eariness and painfulness, in watch ings
often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings aften, in cold and
nakedness," 2 Cor. xi. 24<— 27. Good God! Wh^t a
salary for a minister, hunger, thirst, fastings, naked-
ness^ peril, persecution, death ! In our case, we can
die but once, and virtue considers the proximity of the
crown of righteousness, which, being* suspended imme-
diately over the head of the martyr, supports him un-
der the pains of martyrdom'; but the ministry of St
Paul was a perpetual martyrdom, his life was a conti-
nual death. " I think that God hath set forth us the
apostles last, as it were appointed to death. For we
are made a spectacle unto the trorld, aiid to angels,
and to men/' 1 Cor. iv. 9.

VOL IV. X Here

322 The Necessity/ of progressive Religion:

Here we finish the eulogium of our apostle, and, b j
uniting the^ parts of this slight sketch, we obtain a just
portrait of the man. Do you know a greater than St
Paul ? Can you conceive virtue in a more eminent
degree ? Behold a man fired with zeal, making what
lie thought th€ cause of God his own cause, God's
enemies his enemies, the interest of God the interest
©if himself. Behold a man, who turns his attention ta
truth, and, the moment he discovers it, embraces, and
openly avows it. Behold a man who, not content to
be an ordinary christian, and to save himself alone, as-
piring at the glory of carrying through the whole world,,
for public advantage, that light which had illuminated
himself. Behold a man preaching, writing ; what am
I saying ? Behold a man suffering, dying, and seal-
ing with his own blood the truths he taught. An
ardent zealot, a sincere convert, an accomplished mi-
nister, a bleeding martyr, learned in his errors, and,
if I may be allowed to speak so, regular in his mis-
takes, and virtuous even in his crimes. Shew me in
the modern or primitive church a greater character
than St PauL Let any man produce a christian wha
had more reason to be satisfied with himself, and who
had more right to pretend that he had discharged all
his duties. Yet this very man, this Fanlyforgat those
iiiDi^s which were behind! This very Paul v*^^ press-
ing forward!. This is the man who feared he should
be a cast-awai/ ! And you smokhig ^ax, you bruised
reedy you who have hardly taken root in the christian
soil, you who have hardly a spark of love to God, do
you think your piety sufficient ! Are you the man to
leave off endeavouring to make new advances ! ^ j .

Perfiaps you may say, the text is not to be taken^ li-
terally, it is the language of humility, and resembles
what St Paul says in another place, I am the chief of
sinners; agreeably to his own direction, that mc/i chris-
tian should esteem another better than himself and whict
lie calls, very justly, lowliness of mind. No such thing,

m>"f

The Necessitij of progressive Religion, 3^S'

fay brethren, you will be convinced of the contrary bj*
the following reflections.

2. We ground the necessity of progressive religion
on the great end of Christianity. Form, if it be pos-
sible, a just notion of Christianity. I say if it be pos-
sible ; for we have a wonderful reluctance to under-
stap.d our own religion. We have all a strange pro-
pensity to disguise the character of a true christian,
and to keep ourselves ignorant of it. We have the
holy scriptures, and in them the gOspel plan of redemp-
tion before our eyes every flay, aind every day we throw
over them a v^ariety of prejudices, which suppress the
truth, and prevent us from seeing its beauty. One
forms of Christianity an idea of indolence and relaxa-
tion, and, under pretence that the gospel speaks of
mercy and grace, persuades himself that he may give
a loose to all his natural evil dispositions. Another
imagines the gospel a body of discipline, the principal
design of which was to regulate society, so that pro-
vided we be pretty good parents, tolerable magistrates^
and as good subjects as other people, we ought all to
be content with ourselves. A third thinks, to be a
christian is to defend with constant heat certain points
which he elevates into capital doctrines, essential to
holiness here, and to salvation hereafter. A fourth^
more unjust than all the rest, supposes the first duty
of a christian is to be sure of his own salvation. Each
wanders after his own fancy.

It should seem, however, that the more we consult
the gospel, the more fully shall we be convinced, that
its design is to engage us to Aspire at perfection, td
transform man, to render him as perfect as he was when
became out of the hands of his Creator, to reneivhixd
afler the image of him that created him, to make him
approach the nature of glorified saints, and, to say all
in one word,- to transform him into the divine natur^^^
This is Christianity. This it is to be a christian, and '
consequently a christian is a man called io be perfect,'^

S \ as

$24> The N^ce&sity of progressive Religioii:,

€LS his father which is in heaven is peifect ; ixi he, one
with God, as Jesus Christ is one with God*

This definition of a christian and of Christianity is
justified by all we see in the gospel. For why does
it every where propose perfection for our end, heaven
to our hope, God for our model ? Why doth it teacb
us to consider the good things of the world as evils^
and the evils of the world as benefits, human virtues-
as vices, and what men call vice as virtue ? Why all
tJiis ? All beside the matter, unless the gospel pro*
poses to renew man^ to triiuslorm him, and to make
him approach the j erfect being.

From these principles we conclude this. Since the
gospel requires us to endeavour to be perfect as our
Father which is i?i heaven is perfect^ we ought Bever to
cease endeavouring till we are as perfect as our Father
"which is in heaven is perfect. Since the gospel requires
us to labour to become, by a transformation of our
being, one with God, as Jesus Christ is one with God,
we ought never to give over our endeavours till we da
become one with God, Moreover, as we shall never
in this life carry our virtue to so high a degree as to^
be perfect as our Father is perfect, holy as God is holy.,
one with God as Jesus Christ is one with God, it fol-
lows to a demonstration, that in no period of our life
will our duty be finished ; consequently, we must make
continual progress, if we would answer our engage^
ments ; and consequently there is no point fixed in
the career of virtue, in which it would be allowable to
stop; and consequently, St Paul ought to be under-^
stood literally, when he says of himself, " I count nof
myself to have a])preiiended ; I therefore so run, wq^
^s uncertainly ; so fight I, not as one that beateth th^
air. But I keep under my body, and bring \i fiito sub-
jection, lest that by any means, when I have preached
to others, I myself should be a cast-ay; ay," Phil, iii^
IS, and consequently^ of all the excuses^of all the pre-
texts, of all the sophisms, which were ever iiivente<i

The Necessity of progressive Religion. S95

4o palliate that slowness with which we walk in the
way of virtue, there are none more frivolous than
these, we are not saints, we cannot be perfect, we can-
not put off human nattire ; for it is because you are 7iot
.^ints, it is because you are not perfect, it is because
you cannot put o^' human nature, it is on this account,
that you ought to make a continual progress in chris^
tian virtue, that the sincerity, and, so to speak, the
obstinacy of your efforts may make up for your imper-
fections.

5. Our third class of proofs is taken from the fatal
consequences of a cessciiion of our efforts, a suspension
of our religious endeavours. Were it literally true
that we GGuld arrive at that state of perfection which
the gospel requires of us 4 could we actually finish the
morality of religion, it would still follow, that we must
make new efforts during our residence in this world,
and that without these our past labours would be
useless. A man employed in a mechanical art pre-
pares his materials, sets about his work, and carries
it on to a certain degree. He suspends his labour
for a while ; his work doth not advance, indeed, bu
our artist hath at least this advantage over us, when
he returns to his labour, he finds his work in the
same forwardness in which he left it. Heavenly exer-
cises are not of this kind. Past labour is often lost
for want of perseverance, and, it is a certain maxim in
religion, that not to proceed is to draw back.

Vice is closely connected with liuman propensities^
Virtue, on the contrary, is directly opposite. As soon
as you cease to endeavour to retain what opposes
your propensities, nature takes its course. You carry
within you, so to speak, a worker of iniquity, who
constantly labours at the fatal work of your deprayity.
This workman is the old man. He every day gets
forward, every day confirms you in sin, every day
strengthens your attachment to sensible objects, every
day tfes you with frc^h bands to earthly things. If

vou

326 The Necessiti/ of progressive Religion,

you do not oppose labour against labour, reflection
against reflection, motive against motive, progress
against progress, you will be defeated.

In these observations we find an answer to an ob-
jection, constantly repeated when w^e condemn that
perpetual dissipation, that excessive gaming, and those
reiterated amusements, which consume the greatest
part of your lives. You perpetually com;}lain, that
we overstrain matters, that we aggravate things, that
the yoke of Christ is easij^ and his burden is light, and
that we make the one uneasy, and the other heavy.
You constantly allege, that religion is not intended
to put man on the rack, but to ccmduct him to rea-
son ; that the gospel is not contrary to a thousand
pleasures which society otfers us, and that, after all,
the things we condemn are indifferent. I grant, reli-
gion doth not condemn pleasures. I grant more, the
pleasures you refer to are indifferent in their nature,
that they have no bad influence, no treachery, no ca-
lumny in your conversation ; no fraud, no swearing,
no sordid interest in your gaming, no lax maxims, no
profaneness, no immodesty in your amusements ; I
grant all this : Yet, after all, it is a fact, that, as the
new man suspends his work, the old man advances his.
It is always true, for example, that when a sermon
hati. made some impressions on your hearts, when the
lukewarm are aroused, when the impenitent are terri-
fied, those other objects efface these impressions, and,
though they may not lead you into the commission of
fresh crimes, yet they make you relapse into that first
state of depravity from which you seemed to be emerg-

mg.

4. A fourth source of proofs in favour of the neces-
sity of progress is, the advances themselves which are
made in the path of holiness. The science of salva-
tion in this respect resemble human sciences. In hu-
man sciences we see a very singular phenomenon. A
4iian of gre^t and real learning is humble, he alwayEj
^"'"" '"■■.. speaks

The Necessity of progressive Religion, 327

speaks with caution, he pronounces always with cir-
cumspection, he determines a point trembling, and his
answers to difficult questions are not unfrequently con-
fessions of his ignorance. On the contrary, a pedant
assumes the state of a superior genius ; he knows every
thing, and undertakes to elucidate and determine
every thing. Both these men are in earnest, both are
sincere. The learned man speaks very sincerely ; for,
as he hath made great advances in literature, ke knows
.the extent of it; he knows that nature hath difficul-
ties, providence depths, Religion mysteries : Such a
man becomes humble a« he becomes able, ^nd the
more lie acquires, the more he feels the n^ed of ac-
quiring. On the contrary, a pedant do^ not even
know what learning is, he stops on the beaeli^ sees a
little way, takes that little for the whole, and easily
persuades himself that he knows all.
• Thus in the science of salvation, a man of little re-
''-ligion, who hath only a languishing regard for God,
,and a few superficial ideas of virtue^ soon flatters him-
self that he hath done all his duty, employed all his
love, and carried fervour to its highest degree. A
man of lively and vigorous religion doth not stop on
the shore, he goes aboard a fast sailor, weighs anchor,
and sets sail on that ocean of truth which religion
sets before him, and he soon finds immense spaces
before him ; or, to speak without a figure, he finds
his own virtues so few in number, so limited in de-
gree, so obstructed in their course, and so mixed in
their exercise, that he easily comes into a well grounded
judgment, that all he hath attained is nothing to what
lies before him. As he meditates on his sins, he finds
them so great, so numerous, so odious, so dangerous,
that he cannot comprehend how it is that his heart
doth not break, and his eyes become fountains of
tears. As he meditates on the nature of this world,
he finds it so vain in its occupations, so puerile in its
pleasures, so void in its amusements, its friendship so

deceitful^

$28 yhe Necessittf of prQgressive Religion.

deceitful, and it is duration so short, that h^ cannot
comprehend what should detain him in the world. As^
lie meditates on the felicity of heaven, he finds it sq
substantial and pure, so splendid and satisfactory, that
he cannot conceive what should detain him, and pre-
vent his losing sight of the world and ascending to
heaven. As he meditates on the Creator, he finds him
so wise, so just, so good, so lovely, that he cannot ima-
gine w hy his heart doth not always burn with flames
of love to him.

Such is the effect of perseverance in a path of vir-
tue ! Accordingly w^e find the greatest saints the most
eminent for humility. Abraham durst not " tak^
ijpon him to speak unto the Lord, because he was only
dust and ashes," Gen. xviii. 27. Job, " though he
were righteous, yet \^'ould not answer, but made sup-
plication to his judge," chap. ix. \5. David could not
"' stand, if the Lord should mark iniquities," Psal.
cxxx. 3. St Paul did not think he had attained, Phil,
iii, 12. To say all in one vvord, celestial intelligences,
who were never embodied, seraphim s placed imme-
diately opposite the throne of God, with two wings,
ready to fly at the command of the Creator, have also
four wings to cover their feet and faces, to express that
their zeal, how fervent and flaming soever, cannot
equal what that God merits, whom they incessantly
admire and adore.

5. Our fifth class of proofs is taken from the ex-
cellence of the ministry. St Paul was not an ordinary
christian ; be was a minister of the gospel, and the
greatness of his character was to him a ground of hu-
mility and difhdence.

Although the duties of ministers, and the duties of
hearers are essentially the same ; though there are
not two ways to heaven, one for the pastor, and ano-
ther for the flock, yet, it is certain, ministers have
nu»re motives to holiness than other men.

What would the people say, if the minister of the pul-
5 it, and the minister ©f society, were two men ? If

the

Th(d Neces^ii^ of progressive Religion. ^^&

the minister of the pulpit declaimed against the vani-
ties of the world, and the minister of society . were
worldly ? If the minister of the pwlpit were a man
grave, severe, fervent as a seraph ; and the minister of
society were a man loose, and full of worldly vices ?
Certja^inly people would say we sported with their ere-f
dulity, and many a mouth would thunder in our ear^
this cutting reproach, " Thou which teachest another,
teachest thou not thyself? Thou that preachest a man
should not steal, dost thou steal ? Thou that abhorrest
idols, dost thou commit sacrilege," Rom. ii. 21,

]3eside, a minister hath two works to do in regard
to salvation, his own soul to save, and the souls of
his people to save. Each of these becomes a reason
for his own sanctification. " Foriheir sakes I sanctify
myself," said the Saviour of the world, " that they also
might be sanctified," Johnxvii. 19. Interpreters under-
stand by this sanctification, that separation which Jesus
Christ made of himself for the salvation of his church :
but may vve not understand the word sanctify in the
first part of the proposition, as we understand the same
word in the second ? For their sakes I sanctify my self ^^
is as much as to say, I obey thee, not only because*
being a creature^ I owe thee an inviolable fidelity, but
l>ecause, being the master and teacher of thy church,
I ought to influence it by my own example.

Further, a minister of the gospel hath extraordina^
ry assistance, he is always with God, virtue is con-
stantly before his eyes, and though almost all other
employments in society have connected with them
particular temptations to vice, the professioq^ of a mer-
chant to self-int(5rest, that of a soldier to cruelty, that
of a magistrate- to pride, yet the ministry is itself an
inducement to virtue. Such being the importance of
our engagements, and the eminence of our character,
who can Hatter hiniself with having discharged all his
duties? Who can venture to lift up his eyes to heaven?
Who is not annihilated under a sense of his imperfec-
tions

330 The Necessity of progressive Religion.

tions and frailties ? " O Lord, enter not into judgment
with thy servant," Psal. cxliii. 2.

Finally, The necessity of progressive sanctification
appears by the end which God proposed in placing
us in this world. We are often troubled to conceive
why God lodged man, a creature so noble, in a thea-
tre of vanity and uncertainty. What is our life of
thirty, forty, or fourscore years, to the immense dura-
tion of eternity ? How can we reconcile the part we
act here, with the wisdom of him who placed us here,
and, if I may speak so, the littleness of the world
with the grandeur of its inhabitants ? What destina-
tion do you assign man ? What end do you attribute
to his Creator ? Why did he place him in this world ?
Was it to make him happy ? But what ! can he be
made happy among objects so very disproportion al to
his faculties ? Are not his fortune and reputation, his
health and his life, a prey to all human vicissitudes ?
Was it to make him miserable ? But how can this agree
with the divine perfections, with that goodness, libe-
rality, and beneficence which are essential to God ?
Was it to enable him to cultivate arts and sciences?
But what relation is there between an occupation so
mean and a creature so noble ? Beside, would life then
have been so short? Alas, we hardly make any pro-
gress in arts and sciences, before they become useless
to us ! Before we have well passed out of infancy and
novitiate, death puti a period to our projects, and takes
away from us all the fruits of learning and labour.
Before we have well learned languages, death con-
demns us to eternal silencp. Before we well know
the world, we are obliged to quit it, and we die
when we are just learning to live. If the famous Theo-
phrastus, at the age of one hundred and seven years,
regretted life, because he just then began to live
wisely, what lamentations must other men make ?
What then ^vas the design of God in placing us
here ? Vv as it that we should form and refine society ?

But

The Nec&siy of progreessive Religion. 331

Buf^how can a society, composed of creatures transient
^ftd imperfect, be coisidered as a real and substantial
body of bliss. If it hath some solidity and reality,
when considered al>sfactly, yet what is it in itself?
What is it to you ? Vhat is it to me ? What is it to
any individual membife. ? Doth not one law reduce all
to dust ?

My brethren, there i only one way out of this la-
byrinth. One single a}swer is sufficient for all these
questions. This world s a place of exercise, this life
is a time of trial, which is given us that we may
choose either eternal hapiness or endless misery.

To this belong all tht different ideas, which the
holy Spirit gives us of lift Sometimes it is a state of
traffic, in which eternal rcRrard is given for a cup of
cold ivater only. Sometime it is a state of tribulation,
in which light c(fflictio7i, w.ich is but for a moment^
worketh for us a far more ecceeding and eternal weight
of glory. Sometimes it is £ passage way, in which we
are to behave as strangers ad pilgrims. Sometimes it
is an economy oi' visitation^ n \yhich riches of goodness
and forbearance^ and long-siffering are opened to us.
Sometimes it is a race, in whch all run, but one receiv-
eth the prize. Sometimes it is a Jight, in which we
cannot hope to conquer, unle.s we fight with courage
and constancy.

To this subject belongs the scriptural estimation of
life. Sometimes it speaks of life as mean and con-
temptible ; and at other times, on the contrary, as
great and invaluable. Sometiiies it heaps expression
upon expression, image upon image, emblem upon
emblem, to make us consider it with contempt. It is
a ,shadoiv, a. vanity, a flower, grass, a vapour, a dream,
a tale, a vair, shew, nothing before God. And yet this
vciin shadow, this Jloioer, this grass, this vapour, this.
dream, this tale, this shew, this nothing, the scriptures
teach us to CDnsider as a time for us to redeem, as an
acceptable tine, as a daij of salvation, as a time after

whicl^

339 Th e Necessity of pr(>gt^^ssrm Religion.

which tl>ere will I^e tlmfe no longer Why this different
estimation ? , If you consider life in regard to itself,
and with a view to the connectiois M'e form, the plea-
sures we relish, the temporal ocetiations wt follow ; if
you consider it in ^ regard to s^eptr^s. and thrones,
crowns and establishments the n^st pompous and solid,
you cannot underrate life. On tie contrary, if you con-
sider it in regard to the great ensign of the Creator, in
regard to the relation it hath to eternity, in regard
to tliat idea which we have gien you of it, you cannot
value it too highly. This wckl then is a place of exf-
ercise, life is a time of trial, /iveri us that we might
choose eternal happiness or eidless misery.

This principle being allowed, our doctrine is sup-
ported by a new class of argnnents ; for be it granted
that you remember nothing^n your pa.st life contrary
to your i)rofession of christiaiity ; be it that you resem-
ble St Paul in all his excelhicies alter conversion, and
in none of the crimes whic) he committed before that
Jiappy period ; tr.e only coiclusion which you have a
right to draw is, that yoi have performed a part of
your task, but not that tiere remaint nothing niore
for you to do. You are rearer the end than they wlm
who have not run so fc^t in the race as you. have,
but you have not yet oblained the prize. You have
discharged the duties of /oiith, and the duties of man-;
hood, now the duties of old. age regain to be dis-
ch^^rged. You have discharged all the duties - of
Jiealth, now the duties of sickness and dj'ng remain
%o be dischargexi. THs world is a plfice of exercise ;
while you are in it your exercise is not finished ?. life
\s a time of trial; as J^ngas you live, your trial re-
ntain^.

Let us conclude. Were we to act rationally, we
should always fix our minds en these truths ; we
should never end a day \^ ithout putting ;his question
to ovu'selvcs, Wliat ]>rrgress have I made in virtiie ?
I lave J this day fipproached the end of my creation ?

And

^he Necessiti/ of pyvgressive Religion, S3S

And as the timp of my abode h^re diminishes, do I
advance in proportion to the time that remains ? We
should requiie of ourselves an exaet account of every
day, every hou', every instant of our duration ; but
this is not tie gospel of most christians. What we
have been p:'q)osing, seem to most hearers mere max-
ims of the pi'(acher, more proper to adorn a public
discourse, t'lai to compose a system of religion.

Why are lot ecclesiastical bodies as rigid and severe
against hereies of practice, as they are against heresies
of speculatioi ? Certainly there are heresies in mora-
Jity, as wel as in theology. Councils aiid synods
reduce the loctiines of faith to certain propcskional
points, andthunder anathemas against all who refuse
to subscriL( them. They say, Cursed be he who
doth not l;xli:ev€ the divinity of Christ ; cursed be he
who doth jot believe hypostatical union, and the my-
stery of th^, cross ; cursed be he who denies the in-
ward operations of grace, and the irresistibb efficacy
©f the holj Spirit. I wish they would make a few
canons agfinst moral heresies ! How many are there
of this kiiitl among our people ? Among air people
we may pi^t many who are in another class Let me
«aake canons. In the first 1 would put a ieresy too
common, that is, tliat the calling of a christim consists,
less ia the practice of virtue, than in ibstaining
from gross vic-es ; and I would say. If any iian think
that he sufficiently answers the obligationsof Christi-
anity, hy not being avaricious, oppressive, aid iiiteni-
perate, if he do not allow that he ought toje zealous,
^vent, and detached from the world, let lim lie ac-
cursed. In a second canon, I would put inothef he-
resy, equally general, and equally dan^rous, and
which regards the delay of convei'sion ; a^d I would
say. If cii^ Oiie imagine that, after a life ^xut in sin.
a few regrets, proceeding more frojn a fmr of death
and hell, than from a principle of love lO God, ar<*
•JHifiicient to open the gate^ of heave^i, let hiin be ac-
cursed-

334f The Necessity/ of progressive Biligion.

cursed. In a third canon I would put fiJl \xp

the list yourselves, my brethren, and etus return to
our subject. To confine one's self to i certain circle
of virtues, to stop at a fixed point, to Ik satisfied virith
a given degree of piety, is an error ; t is a heresy,
which deserves as many anathemas, ani ecclesiastical
thunders, as all the other which hav€ been unani-^
mously denounced by all christians.

My brethren, let us rectify our ideas, in order to
rectify our conduct. Let us run with pdience tlie rt;ice
set before us, let us go on till we can say vith St Paul*
/ have finished my course. Be not terrifid at this ideit
of progressive religion. Some great effors must hav^p
been nade by all holy men in this place o arrive at
that derree of virtue which they have oUained ; but
the hardest part of the work is done, henceforward
what reuams is easy. The way to heavei is narrow
at the entrance, but it widens as we go on. 'J he yoke
of Christ is heavy at first, but it weighs Ittle when it
hath beer long worn.

After dl, there is a way of softening ah the pains
to which ve are exposed, by continuing Dur efforts.
St Pau] practised this art with great success ; it con-
sists in filing the eye on the end of the race. At the
endof tiie ace he saw two objects: — The first the prize.
How easy to brave the enemies of salvation, when the
eye is full of the prospect of it! How tolerable appeaf
the y>airiS (f the present state, when the sufferings of
the prcsenttime are compared with, and weighed against
the glory that follows. Next, St Paul saw Jesus
Christ at tie end of the race, another object which
animated hm. He was animated by the example of
Christ, to fi)ish his course with joy ; he was animated
by the assis ances which supported him ; he was ani-
mated by tie promise of Christ telling him, He that
overcometh iicdl sit down in my throne ; he was animated
by the mere;, which he knew, how weak soever his
efforts migh; be, would be approved at the tribunal

' '' of

The Necessity of progressive Religion. 335

of Jesus Christ, provided they were sincere, for Jesus
himself conquered for him, and himself acquired that
prize for the apostle at which he aspired ; in a word,
he was animated by his love ; Jesus Christ is at the
end of the race, and Paul loved Jesus Christ, and
longed to be with him. I said, he saw two objects,
the prize of victory, and Jesus Christ ; but these make
only one object. St Paul's prize is Jesus Christ. Je-
sus Christ is Paul's paradise. According to him, Christ
is the most desirable part of celestial felicity : " Whilst
we are at home in the body, we are absent from the
Lord ; we are willing rather to be absent from the
body, and to be present with the Lord," 2 Cor. v. 6, 8.
" I desire to depart, and to be with Christ," Phil. i. 23.
" I press toward the prize of the high calling of God
in Christ Jesus," chap. iii. 14. This thought, that
every step he took brought him nearer to Jesus Christ,
this thought rendered him insensible to all the fatigue
of the race, and enabled him to redouble his efforts to
arrive at the end.

O flames of divine love ! Shall we never know you
except by the examples of the primitive christians I
O flames of divine love, which we have so often de-
scribed, shall we never feel you in our own souls ! Fire
us, inflame us with your ardour, and make us under-
stand that all things are easy to the man who sincerely
loves God I God grant us this grace ! To him be glory
iJdf ever and ever. Amen.

SERMON

SERMON XIII.

The Moral Martyr.

Psalm cxix. 46.

I will speak of thy testimonies also before kings, and will
not he ashamed.

My Brethren,

TT is not only under the reign of a tyrant, that reli-
gion involves its disciples in persecution, it is in
times of the greatest tranquillity, and even when vir-
tue seems to sit on a throne. A christian is often
subject to punishments different from wheels and
racks. People united to him by the same profession
of religion, having received the same baptism, and
called with him to aspire at the same glory, not un
frequently press him to deny Jesus Christ, and prepare
punishments for him, if he have courage to confess
him. Religion is proposed to us in two different
points of view, a point of speculation, and a point of
practise. Accordingly, there are two sorts of martyr-
dom; a martyrdom for doctrine, and a martyrdom
for morality. It is for the last that the prophet pre-
pares us in the words of the text, and to the same
end I dedicate the sermon which I am ^oing to ad-^
VOL. IV. T dress

S3B The Moral Martyr.

dress to you to-day. I come into the place that af-
fords a happy asylum for confessors and martyrs, to ut-
ter in your hearing these words of Jesus Christ, " Who-
soever shall be ashamed of me, and of my words, in
this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall
the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the
glory of his Father with the holy angels," Mark viii,
38.

In order to animate you with a proper zeal for mo-
rality, and to engage you, if necessary, to become mar-
tyrs for it, we will treat of the subject in five different
views.

I. We will shew you the authors, or, as they may be
justlydenominated, the executioners, who punish men
with martyrdom for morality.

II. The magnanimity of such as expose themselves
to it.

III. The horrors that accompany it.

IV. The obligation which engages men to submit to
it _

V. The glory that crowns it.

We will explain these five ideas contained in the
words of the psalmist, I will speak of thy testimonies
before kings, and will not he ashamed : and we will
proportion these articles, not to that extent to which
they naturally go, but to the bounds prescribed to
these exercises^

I. The authm-s, or as we just now called them, the
executioners who inflict this punishment, are to be con-
sidered. The text calls them kings ; I will speak of thy
testimonies before kings. What kings does the psalmist
mean ? Saul, to whom piety was become odious ? or
any particular heathen prince^ to whom the persecu-
tions of Saul sometimes drove our prophet for refuge ?
The name of the God of the Hebrews was blasphemed
apiong these barbarians ; his worship was c^led super-
stition

The Moral Martyr. 339

stition by them ; and it would have been difficult to
profess to fear him and avoid contempt.

It is not easy to determine the persons intended by
the psalmist, nor is it necessary to confine the words
to either of the senses given ; they may be taken in a
more extensive sense. The word king in the eastern'
languages, as well as in those of the western world,
is not confined to kings properly so called ; it is some-
times given to superiors of any rank. Ask not the
reason of this, every language hath its own genius,
and custom is a tyrant who seldom consults reason
before he issues orders ; and who generally knows no
law but self-will and caprice. If you insist ou a di-
rect answer to your inquiry concerning the reason of
the general use of the term, I reply, the same passion
for despotism which animates kings on the throne,
usually inspires such individuals as are a little elevated
above people around them ; they consider themselves
as sovereigns, and pretend to regal homage. Autho-
rity over inferiors begins this imaginary royalty, and
vanity finishes it. Moreover, such as are called petty
gentry in the world are generally more proud and ab-
solute than real kings ; the last frequently propose
nothing but to exercise dominion, but the first aim
both to exercise dominion and to make a parade of tiie
exercise, lest their imaginary grandeur should pass un-
noticed.

I understand, then, by the vague term kings, all
who have any pre-eminence over the lowest orders of
men, and these are they who exercise tyranny, and
inflict the martyrdom for which the prophet in the
text prepares us. In order to comprehend this more
fully, contract two conditions in the life of David,
Remark first the state of mediocrity, or rather happy
obscurity in which this hoiy man was born. Edu-
cated by a father, not rich, but pijus, he was reli*.
gious from his childhood. As he led a country life,
he met with none of those snares among his cattle

'2 which

Sl.O TJie Monti Martyr.

which: the great Avorkl sets for our innocence. IJ<?
gave full scope without restraint to his love for God.
and coukl affirm, without hazarding any thing, that
God was supremely lovely. AVhat a contrast [ This
shepherd was suddenly called to quit his sheep and
his fields, and to live with courtiers in the palace of a
prince. What a society for a man accustomed to re-
gulate his conversation by the laws of truth, and his
conduct by those of virtue ! What a place was this
for him to propose those just and beautiful principles
which the Holy Spirit teaches in the Scrii)tures, and
•whicii are many of them to be found in the writings
of the psalmist ! '• I have seen the wicked in power,
and spreading himself like a green bay-tree ; yet he
passed away, and lo, he was not : I sought him, but
he" could not be found. Surely men of high degree are
a lie ; to be laid iir the balance they are altogether
lighter than vanity.-— -I said, ye are gods, and all of you
are children of the most High ; but ye shall die like
men. — Put not your trust in a prince, in whom there
IS no help. His l)reath goeth forth, he returneth to his.
earth, in that very day his thoughts perish. He that
ruleth hi» si)irit, is better than he that taketh a city.
My son, the son of my womb, the son of my vows,
give not thy strcjugth unto Avomen, nor thy Avays to
that Avhich destroyeth kings. It is not for kings, O
Lemuel, to drink Avine, nor for princes strong drink.
Test they drink, and forget the laAv, and pervert the
judgment of any of the atllicted." Hoav avouIcI thest-
maxims b© received at some of your courts ? They
Xvere not very pleasing at that of Saul ; David w^as,
thereiore, censured by him and his courtiers for pro-
pos»pf^' th(nn. Hear hoAv he expressed himself in this
psalm. *' O Lord 1^ remove from me reproach and con-
tempt. Princes did sit, and speak against me, be
cause thy servant did meditate in thy statutes. The
proud 1 ave liad me gretttly in derision ; yet have I not
declined from thy kiAv,'' Psal. cxix. 22, 23, 51.

II. Let us pass to the second nrticle, and consider

the'

The Moral Martyr, 54^1

the magnanimity of such as expose tliemselves to this
martyrdom. Tliis is naturally included in the for-
mer remark, concerninp; the executioners who inflict
the punishment. My brethren, it is impossible to
speak of the testimonies of God before the tyrants in
question without being accused either of a spirit of
rebellion, aversion to social pleasures, or nisticity and
jjedantry ; three dispositions Vv iilch tlie great seldom
Ibrgive.

Tlie martyr for morality is sometimes taxed witli
a spirit of rebellion. Perhaps you may liavc thought I
s'poke extravagantly, when I affirmed, that most men
consider themselves as kings in regard to their inferiors.
I venture, however, to affirm a greater paradox still ;
that is, they consider themselves as gods, and demand
such homage to l^e paid trs their fancied divinity as
is due to none but the true God. I grant, great men
do not ail assume the place of God xvith equal arragance.
There are not many Fharoahs who adopt this brutal
language, " Who is the Ij3rd, that I should obey his
volGe ?'' Exod. v. 2. There are but few Sennacheribs
who are so extravagant as to say to the people of God,
** Beware lest ILezekiah persuade you, saying. The
Lord will deliver us. ilath any of the gods of the
nations delivered his land out of the hand of the king
of Assyria ? 'Where are the gods of Hamath and Ar-
phad ? ^\'here are the gods of Sepharvaim ?" Isa.
xxxvi. 18, 19.

But, though the great m.en of the world do not al-
ways assume the ];hK:e of God with so much brutal in-
solence, yet they do assume it. Though they do not
^:ay to tlieir inferiors in so many words Ohe.jj vs, railier
than God, yet do they not say it in effiect ? Is it i)Os-
sible to oppose their fancies with impimity ? Is it safe
to establish the rights of God in their presence? Wliat
success had Elijah at the court of Ahab ? JMicaiah at
that of .lehoshaphat? John the baptist at that of He-
rod ? ; ; ' . ' ; ' .

Wp n^Qfl not go back to remote times. What suc-
cess

342 The Moral Martyr,

cess have we had among you, when we have under
ijtaken to allege the rights of God in some circum-
stances ? For example, when v/e have endeavoured to
convince you, that to aspire at the office of a judge,
without talents essential to the discharge of it, is to
incur the guilt of all tht» unjust sentences that may be
pronounced ; that to dull the understanding by de-
bauchery, to drown reason in intemperance, to dissi-
pate the spirits by sensual pleasures, when going to
^determine questions which regard the lives and for-
tunes of mankind, is to rob men of their propej ty, and
to plunge a dagger into their bosoms; that to be so
absorbed in forming public treaties, and in the pros-
perity of the state, as to lose sight of the interests of reli-
gion, is equal to placing hope in the present life, and
renouncing all expectation of a life to come ; that to
render one's self inaccessible to the solicitations of
widows and orphans, while we fill offices created for
their service, is to usurp honours for the sake of emo-
luments ; that to suffer the publication of scandalous
books, and the practice of public debauchery, under
pretence of toleration and liberty, is to arm God
against a state, though states subsist only by his pro-
tection. Let us not repeat forgotten grievances, let
us not, by multiplying these objects, run the hazard
of increasing the number of arguments which justify
our proposition. To speak of the testimonies of God be-
fore kings, is to expose one's self to a charge of rebel-
lion, and to such punishments as ought to be reserved
?or real incendiaries and rebels.

2. As the great men of the world would have us
respect their rank, so they are equally jealous of their
pleasures; and most men forming maxims of pleasure
more or less lax, according as their rank is more or less
eminent, licentiousne^js grows along with credit and
fortune. A man who made a scruple of being absent
from an exercise of religion, v/hen he could hardly
.provide bread for the day, hath not even attended the
f .; Lord's

The Moral Martyr. 84S

Lord's supper since he became master of a thousand a-
year, A man whose conscience would not suffer hira
to frequent some companies, when he walked a-foot,
is become a subscriber to public gamin <^ houses now
he keeps a carriage. A man who would have blushed
at immodest language in private life, keeps, without
scruple, a prostitute, now he is become a public man.
Lift your eyes a little higher, lift them above meta-
phorical kings, and look at kings properly so called.
Adultery, incest, and other abominations more fit for
beasts than men ? what am I saying ? abominations to
which beasts never abandon themselves, and of which
men only are capable, are not these abominations con-
sidered as sports in the palaces of some princes ? This
is what I said, licentiousness increases with credit and
fortune. The maxims which men form concerning
pleasures, are more or less loose, according as their
rank is more or less eminent. In general, that de-
tachment from the world which religion proposes to
produce in our hearts, that spirit of repentance with
which it aims to inspire us, those images of death
which it perpetually sets before us, those plans of fdi-
city disengaged from matter, to which it invites us ;
all these ideas are tasteless to the great ; we cannot
propose them amidst their intoxicating pleasures with-
out being considered as enemies of pleasure, as
scourges to society.

3. When we speak of the iesilmonies of God before
the great, we are taxed with rusticity and pedantry.
There is among men, a misnamed science, without
which we cannot appear in the great world ; it is called
politeness, or good breeding. This science consists in
adopting, at least in feigning to adopt, all the passions
and prejudices of the great, in taking such forms as
they like, in regulating ideas of right and wrong by
their caprice, in condemning what they condemn, and
in approving what they approve. In one word, polite-
uess, in the style of the great, is that suppleness

which

SM< The Moral Martyr.

which keeps a man always prepared to change his
system of morality and religion according to their fan-
cies. Not to have this disposition, to have invariable
ideas, and invariable objects of pursuit, to be incon-
vertible in religion, to have the laws of God always
before our eyes, or, as the scripture speaks, to walk
before him, is, in style of people of the world, to have
no breeding, to be a bad courtier, to be possessed with
that kind of folly which renders it proper for us,
though not to be confined with lunatics, yet to be ba-
nished from the company of people of birth and qua-
lity, as they call themselves, and to be stationed in
plosets and cells. ^

riL Thus we have seen both the executioners who
punish morality with martyrdom, and the magnani-
mity which exposes a man to the punishment ; and
these are sufficient to expose our third article, the
horrors, that accompany it. I have no ideas suffi-
ciently great of the bulk of my auditors, to engage
me to be very exact in expounding this third article.
I fear, were I to enlarge on this part of my subject,
T should raise insurmountable obstacles to the end
which I should propose in opening the subject. Forgive
an opinion so inglorious to your piety, but too well
adjusted to the imperfections of it. We dare riOt forni
such a plan for you as Jesus Christ formed for St
Paul, when speaking of this new proselyte to Ananias,
]ic told him, '* I will shew him how great things he must
suifer for my name's sake," Acts ix. 16. Martyrdom for
iloctrines, 1 grant, seems at first more shocking than
martyrdom ibr morality ; but, taken ail together, it is
perhaps less insupportabie. To die for religion is not
always the worst thing in the calling of a christian.
Virtue wakes up into vigour in these circumstances,
and renders itself invincible hj its efforts. Even
worldly honour sometimes comes to embolden. That
i.ind of heroism which is attributed to a nian making

such

The Moral Martyr, 346

such a splendid sacrifice, supports under exquisite tor-
ments.

There is another kind of suffering, longer and more
fatiguing, and therefore more difficult. It is a pro-
fession, a detail, a trade of suffering, if I ma)'- express
myself so. To see one's self called to live among men
whom we are always obliged to contradict upon sub-
jects for which they discover the greatest sensibility ;
to be excluded from all their pleasures ; never to be
admitted into their company, except when they are
under afflictions and restraints ; to hear one's looks
and habits turned into ridicule, as they said of the
prophet Elisha, " He is an hairy man, and girt with a
girdle of leather about his loins," 2 Kings i. 8. What a
punishment! Men who have withstood all the terrors
of racks and dungeons, have yielded to the violence of
this kind of persecution and martyrdom. We will not
be insensible of the frailty of our auditors, and, there-
fore, we v/ili omit a discussion of the acute and horrid
pains of this kind of martyrdom.

lY. We are to treat, fourthly, of the obligation of
speaking of the testimonies of God before kings. We
ground this on the nature of this duty. You have
heard, that it consists in urging the rights of God
before great men ; and, though it be at the hazard of
all the comforts and pleasures of life, in professing to
respect the moral part of religion. We do not mean
an unseasonable and indiscreet manner of duing so.
The duty of confessing Jesus Christ before tyrants, in
regard to his doctrines, hath its bounds ; and so hath
that of confessing his morality. Tliere ^^as more
enthusiasm than true zeal in such ancient confessors as
voluntarily presented themselves before persecutors,
and intrigvied for the glory of martyrdom. So, in re-
gard to the present subject, in our opinion, it is not
requisite we should intrude into the company of the
great to reprove them, when we have reason to be-
y lieve

346 Th^ Moral Mlartyr.

lieve our rebukes would be injurious f(5 ourselvts, and
contribute nothing to the glory of religion. All the
Actions of a christian should be directed by prudence.
We only expect you should never blush for the pre*
Cepts of your great Lawgiver, never contribute, by
mean adulation, or profound silence, to the violation
of them ; in short, that you would openly profess to
fear God always when your profession is likely to con-
vince a sinner, or to convert a saint.

This duty carries its own evidence along with it.
Let us here compare the doctrines of religion with
the precepts of it. The precepts of religion are as
essential as the doctrines ; and religion will as certainly
sink if the morality be subverted, as if the tlieology
be underm.ined. Moreover, doctrines are absolutely
useless without morality, and the doctrines of religion
are only proposed to us as grounds of the duties of
it. The first doctrine of religion, the foundation of
all the rest, is, that there is only one God ; but why
doth God require us to admit the doctrine of his
unity ? it is that we may not divide supreme love, the
character of supreme adoration, between the supreme
Being and creatures ; for on this subject it is said,
ihou shali love the Lord thy God with all thine hearty
Now, were I to deny this second proposition, we ought
not to divide between God and any creature that love
which is the essence of supreme adoration, should I be
a less odious apostate than if I denied the first ? One
of the most essential points of our divinity is, that
^here is a future state. But why doth God require us
to believe a future state ? It is that we should regard
the present life as the least considerable period of our
duration. It' then I deny this practical proposition, the
present life is the least considerable part of our dura»
tion, am I an apostate less odious than if ! deny this
proposition of speculation, there is a future state? We
say the same of all other doctrines.

If it be the duty of a christian to confess the doc-

Jrii^es

The Moral Martyr. 347

trines of religion, and if a simple genuflexion;, and the
offering of one grain of incence, be acts of denial of
these truths of speculation, I ask, Are not one act of
adulation, one smile of approbation, one gesture of
acquiescence, also acts of denial in regard to practical
truths'? Most certainly. In times of persecution it
was necessary to lift up the standard of Jesus Christ,
to confess him before Herod and Pilate, and before
all who took these persecutors of the church for their
examples. In like manner, while the church enjoys
the most profound peace, if innocence be oppressed, if
we see modesty attacked, if we hear the sophisms of
sin, we must learn to say, each in his proper sphere, I
am a christian, I hate calumny, I abhor oppression, I
detest profaneness and licentiousness, and so on.

The further you carry tliis comparison of martyr-
dom for doctrines with martyrdom for duties, the
more fully will you perceive, that the same reasons
which establish the necessity of the first, confirm that
of the last, and that apostates from morality are no
less odious than those from divinity. Let us for a
moment examine what niakes the first martyrdom ne-
cessary, 1 mean that for doctrines. Some reasons re-
gard the believers tbemsjelvos. Our attachment to the
religion of Jesus Christ may be doubtful to ourselves,
before we suffer for it. Martyrdom is a trial of this
attachment. " Beloved, think it not strange concern-
ing the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some
stnuige thing happened unto you," 1 Pet. iv. 12. Some
regard the spectators, in whose presence God calls his
children to suffer for religion. Christians have made
more disciples to the true religion, by suffering pe. .e
cution, than tyrants have taken from it by persecutingo
This is a second view of martyrdom. A martyr may
say, with his divine IMaster, " i, ii I be lilted up, - ill
draw all men unto me," John xii. 32. Some of these
reasons regard the honour of religion, for which God

calls

348 The Moral Martyr:

calls us to suffer. What €an be more glorious for it
than that peace, and joy, and firmness, with Avhich it
inspires its martyrs ? How ravishing is this religion,
when it supports its disciples under the most cruel
persecutions ! How truly great doth it appear, when it
indemnifies them for the loss of fortune, rank, and
life ; ) when it makes them see, through a shower of
stones, the object of their hope, and impels them, to ex-
claim with St Stephen, " Behold, I see the heavens
opened, and the Son of Man standing on the right
hand of God !" Acts vii. 56. This is a third view of
martyrdom, and it would be as easy to increase the list
as it is to make the application. Let us apply to martyr-
dom for duties, what we have said concerning martyrdom
for doctrines, and v^e shall be obliged to conclude, that
the same reasons establish the necessity of both.

Let us not pass lightly over this article. If there be
a martyrdom of morality, how many apostates have
we among us? How often have we denied our holy
religion ? How often, when it hath been jeeringly said
to us, Thoii also wast ivith Jesus, have v/e sneakingly
replied, / knoiu not lohat thou safest f-

\. "We come to our last article, the crown of moral
martyrdom. Here a new order of objects present
themselves to our meditation. Pardon me, if I can-
not help deploring tlie loss, or the suspension of that
voice with which for three and twenty years I have
announced the testimonies of God, so as to be clearly
heard at the remotest parts of this numerous auditory.
However, I will try to present to you at least a few of
the truths which I dare not undertake to speak of in
their utmost extent.

The martyrdom of morality ! A man M'ho can say
to Cod, as our prophet said, I will speak of thy testimo-
nles before kings, and will not be ashained, fmds a rich
reward, first in the ideas which a sound reason gives
l^im of shame and srlorv ; secondlv, in the -testimonv

of

The 3foraI Martjjr. 349

©f his OAvn conscience ; thirdly, in the approbation of
good people ; and lastly, in the prerogatives of martyr-
dom. These, if I may so express myself, are four
jewels of his crown.

1. Notions of shame and ghry are not arbitrary, they
are founded on the essence of those things to which
they are related ; on these relations they depend, and
not on the caprice of different understandings. My
first relation is that which I have to God, it is the re-
lation of a creature to his Creator. Tlie duty of this
relation is that of the most profoimd submission. My
glory is to discharge this duty, and it is my shame to
violate it. My second relation is that which I have
to men, a relation between beings formed in the same
image, subject to the same God, and exj)osed to the
same miseries. The duty of this relation is that of
treating men as I wish they would tteat me ; or, to use
the words of Jesus Christ, "of doing to them whatso-
ever I would they should do tome," Matt. vii. 12. It
is my glory to discharge this duty, and my shame to
violate it ; and so of the rest. These ideas are not ar-
bitrary, they are founded in the nature of things. No
mortal, no potentate hath a right to change them. If
then, the great regard me with disdain, when I answer
to my relations, and discliarge the duties of them, I
will not be ashamed. The contempt which this con-
duct brings upon me, falls back upon my despiser, be-
cause shame is a necessary consequence of violating
these duties, and because glory is a necessr^ry conse-
quence of practising them.

2. The martyrdom of morality is rewarded by the
testimony of conscience, and by the ineffable joys rvith
which the heart is overwhelmed. While the tribunals
of the great condemn the christian, an inward judge
absolves him ; and the decrees of the former are re-
versed by the latter. *• Our rejoicing is this, the testi-
mony of our conscience. I suffer ; nevertheless I am
not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed,"^
2 Cor. i. 12. 2 Tim, i. 12.

S. The

350 The Moral Martyr. '

3. The moral martyr is rewarded by the approba-
tion of good people. Indeed, sutiVages will never be
unanimous. There will always be in the world two
opposite systems, one of virtue, another of sin. The
partizans of a system of sin will always condemn the
friends of virtue, as the friends of virtue will always
condemn the partizans of sin. You cannot be con-
sidered in the same light by two such different classes
of judges. What the first account infamous, the last
call glory ; and the last will cover you with giory for"
what the first call your shame. If you be obliged to
choose one of the two parties to judge you, can you
possibly hesitate a moment on which to fix your
choice ? The prophet indemnified himself by an inter-
course with the people of God, for the injury done him
by the great. / a7Ji, said he, a companion of all them
that fear thee, and ^f them that keep thy precepts, Psal.
cxix. GS. Suffer me to sanctify here the profone praise
which Lncan gave Pompey"*; The Gods are for Ccesar,
hut Cato is for Pompey, Yes, the approbation of Cato
is preferable to that of the gods ! I mean those imagi^
nary gods v/ho frequently usurp the rights of the true
God. '^

In fine. The martyr for morality is rewarded by
t\\Q prerogatives o{xi\BXiyYaom. It weuld be inconve^
•nient, in the close of a sermon, to discuss a question
that would require a whole discourse ; I mean that
concerning degrees of glory ; but that, if there be
degrees of glory, the highest will be bestowed on
martyrs, will admit of no dispute. This, I think,
may be proved from many passages of scripture. St
John seems to have taken pains to establish this doc-
trine in the Revelation : " He that overcometh, and
keejeth my works unto the end, to him will I give power
over the nations, and he shall rule them vrith a rod of
iron ; as the vessel of a potter shall they be broken into
shivers," chap. ii. 26, 27. This regards martyrs, and
this seems to promise them pre-eminence. " Behold I

come

* Victrix Causa Deis Placuit ; sed Victa Catoni,

2%e Moral Martyr, 35 1

come quickly; hold that fast which thou hast, that no
man take thy crown. Him that overcometh will I
make a pillar iiithe temple of my God, and he shall go
no more out ; and I will write upon him the name of
my God, and tlie name of the city of my God, which
is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven
from my God," chap. iii. 11, 12- This regards mar-
tyrs, and this seems to promise them pre-eminence.
" What are these which are arrayed in white rohes ?
and whence came they ? These are they which came
outof great tribulation, and have washed their robes,
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
Therefore are they before the throne of God," chap. vii.
13, 14, 15. This regards martyrs, and this also seems
to promise them pre-eminence.

Christians, perhaps your minds are offended at the
gospel of this day. Perhaps you are terrified at the
career which we have been opening to you. Perhaps
you are inwardly murmuring at this double martyrdom*
Ah ! rather behold the great cloud of ivitnesses with
which you are compassed about, and congratulate your-
selves that you fight under the same standard, and as-
pire at the same crown. Above all, look unto Jesus,
the author and Jinisher offaith^ who endured such con-
tradiction of sinners against himself; and who, as the
same apostle Paul speaks, not only endured the cross,
but also despised the shame. Hark! he speaks to you
from the goal, and in this animating language address-
es you, " If any man hear my voice, I will come in to
him. To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with
me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set
down with my Father in his throne," Rev. iii. 20, 21.
Happy you, if you be accessible to such noble motives !
Happy we, if we be able to say to God, in that so-
lemn day in which he will render to every one accord-
ing to his works, / have preached righteousness in the
great congregation. Lo, I have not refrnined mv lips,
O Lard, thou knowest I ka;ue not hid thij righteous-
ness

352 The Moral Martyr.

ness within my heart, I have declared thy faithfulness
and thy salvation^ I have not concealed thy loving kind-
ness ! Withhold not thou thy tender mercies from me, O
Lord! God grant us this grace. Amen,

SERMON

AN

ESSAY

ON THE

CONDUCT OF DAVID

AT THE

COURT OF ACHISH KING OF GATH,

IN ▲

LETTER OF MR DUMONT,

PAittOR OF THE FRENCH CHURCH AT ROTTERDAM, AND PROFESSOR OF TKP,
ORIENTAL LANGUAGES, AND ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY,

to

MR SAURIN AT THE HAGUE,

TRANSLATED B\

ROBERT ROBINSON,

VOL TV Z

ADVERTISEMENT,

I^^ABRIEL DUMONT, author ofthe following essay, was
born at Crest in Daupliiny, August 19th, 16S0, and died
at Rotterdam, January 1st, 1748. He -vvas a refugee for re-
ligion, and was pastor of the Waloon church at Rotterdam,
and professor of the Oriental languages and Ecclesiastical
history. He published nothing himself during his life ; but,
after his decease, Mr Superville, his colleague, published, with
a short preface, one volume of his sermons^ containing twelve
discourses, the most plain, artless, and edifying that I have
ever had the happiness of reading ; not so disputatious as
those of Amyraut, not so grave as those of Superville, not so
slirf as those of Torne and Bourdaloue, not so far-fetched
and studied as those of Massillon, nor so charged with co-
louring as those of Saurin ; but placid, ingenious, gentle, na-
tural, and full of evidence and pathos : just as wisdom from
above should be, p7^rf, iKaceabtc, miid — -fiiU of mcrcxf and good
fruits — sown in peace to make pc axe ^ James iii. 17, 18. The
public owe this volume to Mademoiselle de Heuqueville, the
pious patroness and friend ofthe author, who had, as it were,
extorted them from him before his death.

Mr Saurin, who published this essay in his dissertations on
the bible, says, " I follow our version, and the general sense
of interpreters. A learned man (Mr Dumont) has investi-
gated the subject at large, and, if he doth not furnish us with
2 demonstrations

S56 ADVERTISEMENT.

demonstrations in favour of the system he proposes, yet his
conjectures are so full of erudition, and so very probable,
that we cannot help admiring them, while we feel an inclina-
tion to dispute them."

For my part, I own, if I may venture a conjecture, I
think Mr Dumont has placed his opinion in a light both
beautiful, and, in a very high degree probable. To sum up
his meaning, he would read the passage thus :

1 Samuel, chap xxi.

Ver. 10. And David fled that day for fear of Saul, and
went to Achish, the king of Gath.

11. And the servants of Achish said unto him, Is not this
David the king of the land ? did they not sing one to ano-
ther of him in dances, saying, Saul hath slain his thousands,
and David his ten thousands ?

12. And David was struck to the heart with these words,
and was sore afraid of Achish king of Gath.

13. And he changed countenance before them, and fell
convulsed into their hands, and he hurt and marked himself
against the posts of the gate, and he frothed on his beard.

14-. Then said Achish unto his servants, Lo, you see the
man is epileptic : wherefore then have ye brought him unto
me?

15. Have I need of epileptics, that ye have brought this
man to fall into convulsions in my presence ? Shall this fel-
low come into my house ?

AN

AN

ESSAY

ON

THE CONDUCT OF DAVID

AT THE COURT OF

I

AcHXSH King of Gath,

Sir,

MAY venture to call the letter T have the honour
to write 3 ou, *' An apology for the conduct of Da-
vid at the court of king Achish," for my design is to
prove three things : First, That if David had counter-
feited madness on the occasion mentioned in the twenty-
first chapter of the first book of Samuel, he would not
have committed any sin. Secondly, That David did
not feign himself mad, as is generally supposed. And
thirdly. That this heir apparent to the crown of
Israel, had not, at the court of Gath, the least degree
of madness, either real or feigned.

I. If you were a man who decided a point of mo-
rality by human authority, I m.ight allege, in favour
of this first article, the following distich of Cato,

Insipiens esto, cum tempus postulat, aut res ;
Stultitiam simulare loco, prudentia summa est (I),

Indepen?

(1) Disticha de moribus, lib, ii. Dist. IS.

558 David's supposed Madness,

Independently of this author, of whom we hardly
know either the true name, the religion, the country,
or the age, every body will ajlow that there is a good
deal of wisdom required to play the fool properly.
Madness is no sin, it is a disease of the mind, or ra-
ther of the brain. David, it is to be observed, during
his pretended madness, said nothing criminal. He
did a few apparent acts of a person insane. Why
might he not be allowed to free hinielf from immi-
nent danger by this prudent dissimulation ? To treat
of this question fully and accurately, it would be ne-
cessary to go to the bottom of the subject, and exa-
mine the grounds and principles of the obligations
men are under to speak and act sincerely to one ano-
ther. It might not be improper to investigate this
matter by enquiring, whether, in this reciprocal en-
gagement, there be any diflerence between deceiving
by words known and agreed on between mankind,
and misleading, by actions, the natural signs of the
sentiments of our hearts/ Pai'ticularly, it should be
examined, whether there be no cases in which this
kind of contract is in a sort suspended, and whether
David were not in one of these cases, in which he was
not obliged so to act, as to convey to king Achish his
true and real sentiments. jBut as 1 know, sir, you
have examined this subject in the case of Samuel, I
will confine myself to. two arguments, supported by
a few facts, relative to the conduct attributed to Da-
vid, in order to justify him.

First, His life was in danger ; and will not a man
give all that he hath for his life ? Have we not a right to
do every thing excejit sin to avoid death ? Blame, an(J
welcome, the cruel policy of Dionysius of Sicily (2),
who sometimes spread a report that he was sick, and
Eometimes that he had been assassinated by his soldiers,
with a design to discover, by the unguarded convereja-

tion.

(2) Polyaenus Stratag. 1. v. cap. 2. S. 15 j 1 9-

David's supposed Madness. 359

tion of his subjects how they stood affected to his i^o-
v^mmeiit, that he might have a j)retcnce for pron;
scribing" such as were ill affected to his despotisrq,^
Censure, if you please, the king of Ithaca, and the
astronomer Meton (3) for pretending to have lost their
senses, tlie first for the sake of continuing with his
dear Penelope, and the last to avoid accompanying
the Athenians in an expedition against vSicily. Pity»
if you will, the two monks Simeon and Thomas (4.),
who affected to play the fool, lest the extraordinary-
holiness of their lives should not be perceived. I
freely give up these tyrants and hypocrites to the most
severe criticism ; and I am inclined to be of the opinion
of Cicero (6), who calls the finesse of Ulysses, ?i07i
honestum consilium, a disingenuous conduct. Form,
if you think proper, the same opinion of the stra-
tagem of the famou's St Ephraim (6), who, under-
standing that he was chosen bishop, and that they were
going to force him to be ordained, ran into a public
})lacc, ^^'alkcd irregularly, let fall his robe, went eating
along the streets, and did so many actions of this
kind, that every body thougiit he had lost his senses.
He watched his opportunity, fled and concealed him-
self, and continued to do thus till they had nominated
another bishop. I wiil not pretend to say, whether
this proceeded from his contem|!t of vain glory, as
Sozomen (7) pretends, or from his great love of re-
tirement, for he was J7';i>;//ac e/c ayy.y ^air^c;. For my part,
I make no scruple to say of this ai'tifice, as weil as
of the trick he played Apollinaris (8), non honesluirt
consilimn. But you, sir, who are such a good citizen,
will vou condemn the wise Solon (9) for counterfeit-
ing distraction, in order to divert his fellow-citizens of
Athens from their resolution to abandon Salamin his

country

(;]) ^l^lina varinr. liistoriar. lib. xiii. cnp. 12. (i) Evagr)u.s.

Hist. Eceles. lib. iv. cap. iJl. (.j) C'lc. do ofFiciis. lib, iii, cap.

2(). (()) Sozonven Hist. Eccl. lib. iii. cnp 16\ (7) Soz. ibid.

(8) Greg, de Nysseji Panf?g. d'' S. Kphr. tj)) Di'^ciicii Ln.ccJ.

jjb. i. in Solciii'.

S®P David's supposed Madness.

country to the inhabitants of Megara ? You, sir, who
are no enemy to prudence, will you disapprove the
opinion given of Lucius Junius Brutus ( 1 0),

Brutus erat stulti sapiens imitator.

He affected to be stupid, lest he should become susr
pected by Tarquin the proi .!, who had put to death
his father and his eldest brother, for the sake of seiz-
ing their great wealth. It should seem, that on sup-
position David acted a j)art when he \vas in danger of
his life, in a place where he had fled for refuge, it
would be a sufficient justification of his character to
say, that he thought he might innocently make use of
such a stratagem.

2. If the danger of losing his life be not sufficient,
let it be observed further, that the deception was di-
rected to the Philistines, with whom the Israelites
were then at war. This is a second argument to jus-
tify the conduct of David. When was it ever unlaw-
ful to use stratagems in war? Did not God himself
order the Israelites to lie in ambush and tojlee before
the inhabitants of Ai, in order to draw them from the
titij f Is there any less evil in affecting cowardice
than there is in pretending to be deprived of reason ?
Where is the general, who would not be glad to take
cities at the same price as Callicratidas of Cyrene
(11) took the fort of Magnesia, by introducing four
soldiers, who pretended to be sick ? You have observed,
sir, in Buchanan's excellent history of Scotland ( 1 2),
the manner in which king Duncan defeated the
army of Swen king of Norway, who was besieg-
ing him in Perth. He sent the besiegers a great
quantity of v/ine and beer, in which some herbs of

noxious

(10) Dion. HalJcarn. Antiqiiitat. Roman, lib. iv. (11) Poly-
apnus Stratag. lib, ii. cap. 27, S. 1. (12) Burhanani Hist. Sco-

tica. — -Rem. This tale is not credited by some historians, ui d indeed
it appears highly improbable in itself. Mr Guthrie call:: it an infa-'
Tnous and improbable story.-— Hist, of Scot. Vol. I. p. SS^-.

David's supposed Madness. 361

noxious qualities had been infused, and while this so-
porific was taking effect, he went into the can-ip, and
put the whole army to the sword, except the prince of
Norway, and ten soldiers, who had suspected the pre-
sent made them by the enemy, and had not tasted the
beverage. The herb is supposed to be the solanvnit or
strychnos oi Pliny (18), the nightshade, which in a
certain quantity stu]ufies, in a greater quantity dis-
tracts, and if more than two drachms, causes death.
For these two reasons, then, I conclude that my first
proposition is suflBciently clear. I said, if David had
counterfeited madness, and played the fool, he would
not have committed any sin ; first, because his life ^^ as
in danger ; and secondly, because the Philistines were
at war with his country.

II. If any continue obstinately to maintain, that
the dissimulation of David was criminal, and oppo-
site to sincerity and good faith, I have another string
to my bov.^ to defend this illustrious refugee. I affirm^
that David did not play the fool, and act a part ; but
that, being seized with extreme fear at hearing the
conversation cf the ministers of state, in the court of
king Achish, he fell under a real absence of mind, and
behaved, in a few instances, like a man disordered in
his senses. Sebastian Schmidt (! 4), a celebrated Lu-
theran divine, proposed as a kind of problem, svlic-
ther providence might not permit David to l)e ti vri-
fied into a momentary dejiriimi, in order to effect lus
deliverance. Mr John Christian Ortloh, a .eairicd
man of Leipsic (15) ],ublished a dissertation, in I'-OG,
on the delirium of David before Achish, in whi( li he
shews, that the whole of the sacred text in Saiuuel
naturally leads us to jjidge that Dovid was so struck
with the fear of sudden death, that for a few moments

his

(13) Plin. Hist. Nat. lib. xxi. cap. Sl.—Salmas. ad fiv^.iin. p.
1086. (14.) D. Sepa<t. Sclmn'dius in 1 Saw \\i.

(15) Davidis delirium coram Achis. Lipsiae, I70G. 4. pag. 2i.

S62 David's supposed Madness.

his understanding' was absent. As this thesis is little
known in this country, and as it is curious in itself,
you will not be displeased. Sir, if I give you here a
sketch of what he says.

1. Mr Ortlob shews, that dissimulation was imprac-
ticable in David's condition. Either he aftected to
play the fool the moment he was seized by the ser-
vants of the king, or only while he was in the presence
of Achish. The text is contrary to the first, for it
expressly assures us tliat this madness of David was in
consequence of the conversation that passed between
Achish and his officers in the presence of David. The
second supposition is not at all likely, for it would
have been very imprudent for him to begin to act his
part in the presence of Achish, his officers would have
discovered the artifice, and would have informed their
master : beside, it is inconceivable that David should
continue from his being first taken to that moment as
mute as a fish, in order to conceal a design which re-
quired a state of mind more tranquil than that of Da-
vid could be, in a danger so imminent.

2. Next, Mr Ortlob proceeds to prove, that David
had a true and natural alienation of mind.

The first proof is, his fear of danger. David, says
the tvv'elfth- verse, ktid up the words in his heart, and
was so7-e afraid of Achish the king of Gath. The ter-
ror tJiat stnzed his soul afiected the organs of his body,
and disconcerted the fibres of his brain. There are
many examples of persons affected in like manner vvith
sudden fear. Our learned author relates the case of a
girl of ten years of age (16), who was so terrified with
tlumder and lightning in a furious tempest, that she
was seized with violent convulsions in h^r left arm
and her left leg. Though she did not lose her senses,
yet she was constrained to flee on the other foot along
the wainscot of the chamber, and the company could
not stop her.

The

(l6) Ephcmcr. }\lcd. Pliys. Germ. Acadcniia? curiosorum; An. .8.»
Obscrv. 7L

David'' s supposed Madness. SG3

' The next proof is taken from the expressions of the
inspired writer, which, simply and literally explained,
signify a real madness.

David changed his behaviour. It is in the Hebrew
his taste, that is his reason, for reason is, in man, w hat
taste is in regard to aliments.

And he became mad. The hebrew verb hated, in the
conjugation hithpael, as it is here, always signifies in
scripture real, and not feigned madness ; and there is
nothing in the text which obliges us to depart from a
sense that perfectly agrees with the simplicity of the
history. The French and English versions render it,
he feigned himself mad ; but they are wrong, for the
original says nothing about feigniiig.

He scrabhted on tJie doors cf the gale. Cornelius a
Lapide thinks he wrote the letter tau to form the fi-
gure of the cross. Ilabbi Schabtai, in a German book
entitled isrim vearba (17), was better informed, and
he says David wrote on the gates of the palace. The
king owes 7ne a hundred thousand gilders, and his king-
donu fifty thousand. Mr Ortlob, learned as he is, does
not know so much as the llabbi and the Jesuit. He
contents himself with observing, that David, all taken
up with his delirium, and liaving no instrument in his
hand to write, scratched the gate with his fingers, like
people in a malignant fever. He observes also, that
the indecent manner in which Da\'id lei his spittle fall
down upon his beard is a natural and usual conicquencQ
of a delirium.

His thu'd proof is taken from the connection of the
whole history, Vv'hich supposes and indicates real mad-
ness. David changed his behaviour ; the sacred au-
thor explains first in ^^ hat this change consisted, it was
in becoming mad in the presence of the king and his
officers; and he adds two actions of madness, the one
scratching and writing on the gates with his fingers,
and the other driveling on his beard.

Thu
(17) Printed in 1703.

SM< David's supposed Madness.

The last proof our author takes from the conse-
quences. Achish gives David his life and liberty, as
a man beneath his resentment. He was angry with
those who brought a madman to him. David, on his
side, escaped the danger, recovered his spirits, and be-
came himself. There is no reason to (juestion whether
he observed the precept given by himself in the thirty-
fourth psalm, which he composed, as well as the fifty-
sixth, to praise God for his deliverance, keep ihij lips
from, speaking; guile, ver. 1 3.

My second proposition was, that David did not feign
himself mad, as is usually supposed ; and Mr Ortlob, ia
this treatise, hath justified David from the charge of
every kind of dissimulation, and so far it gives me plea-
sure to follow him ; for this is an opinion more tolerable
than the Ibrmer, but 1 must beg leave to dissent from
this learned writer, and to state in the next place my
own opinion, for I do not think, as Mr Ortlob does,
that David had any degree of madness.

III. I think the whole passage ought to be under-
stood of an epilepsy, a convulsion of the whole body,
with a loss of sense for the time. Judge, Sir, of the
reasons on which I ground this third proposition.

1 . My first reason is taken from the original terms,
which perfectly agree with an epilepsy. This is not
easy to discover in our modern versions ; but it is very
plain in the Septuagint, and in the old Latin version,
which our interpreters often very inji;d'ciously despise.
The authors of both these versions were in a better
condition than v/e are, to understand the force and
the real signiiication of Hcbrev/ words and idioms. I
am fully persuaded we ought to prefer these versions hi
the present case.

JJavidy said the sacred historian, changed his beha-
viour, or his taste. The Stptuacint reads it y^hkci:.^7i
v« rrfOToj-rov av'loy, and the Vulgatc, inwiutavit os suum, he
cfixnigcd countenance. I think this translation is better

than

David's supposed Madness. 365

than that of Mr Ortlob, his reason was changed ; be-
cause it is added, befo?^e them, or in their sight, and in
the thirty-fourth psalm, hefoj^e Abimelech, or in liis pre-
sence. It is well known, that the countenance of a
person taken with an epilepsy is suddenly changed.
But should we retain the word reason, we might with
equal justice say, that the reason, or the taste is
changed in an epileptic fit, because for a few moments
reason is absent.

2. Our version adds, he feigned himself mad i^ their
hands. The Septuagint seems to me to have rendered
the words much better, Trafaftftlo tr tolk x^?'^" a^^-*^ He
struggled, or tossed himself in their hands. (For I think
the preceding words in this version, in that day he
feigned, is one of those interpolations, which passed
from the margin to the text; and that the words,

xa( tjvuTravtl^iv iti txii; ^v^oli^ tyjc rrcxiuc, are of SOmC Other

version, and have got into the text as the former.)
The Hebrew word halalh a general term, which signi-
fies to agitate one's self, to shake, either by twinkling
like the stars, or by applauding some one, or by boast-
ing of any thing of our ovv^n, which the Latins call jac-
tare, jactare se ; or by moving ourselves involuntarily,
as a paralytic man does, or a madman, or a person
in convulsions, or one in excessive joy. The Septua-
gint could not translate the word here better than by
^a^acpepts-ra/, because -rcfr^afopoi; among tlic Greeks (18) is
put for a distracted person, a demoniac, and because
a body irregularly and involuntarily agitated is said
7ra^oi<pi^^i(x^ai. Aristotle (19) uses it in the same sense.
Having said that there seems something in the soul of
an intemperate man beside reason, and opp i; - to it,
he adds, he is like a paralytic body, the patient aims
to move the right hand or the right foot, and the icft

hand andthe left foot move rovyxy^ioy uc ra «,< t,^^ ry^c^fs tla..

The only difference is, we perceive irregular motions

of

(1) Phavorinus in voce ^u^cc<p»^og.

(If!) Aristot. Ethicor. ad Nicomachum, lib. i. cap. 13.

368 David's supposed Madness.

of the body, whereas those of the soul are invisible,*
The Vulgate translates in a manner more favourable
still to my opinion, et collabehaiu}* inter manus eoru7n,
he fell into their hands. The term collabi, as well as
cadere, and curruere, are applied to the epilepsy, which
the Hebrews, like us, called i\\G falling sickness. All
these Latin w^ords may be seen in this sense in the
first apology of Apuleius (19). He addresses himself
to iEmilianus, his adversary, to justify himself from
the accusation of having bewitched one Thallus, who
was fallen extremely ill with an epilepsy. Imo si
veram velis, /Emiliane, tu potius caducus qui jam tot
calumniis, cecidisti, neque enim gravius est corpore
quam corde collabi, pede potius quam mente corruere^
in cubiculo despui, cpiam in isto splendidissimo caetu
detestari.

3- And he marked the posts of the gates. This is the
version of the late I\Ir Martin, but allow me to lay
aside all the versions of our modern divines, and even
those of the most celebrated Rabbies, and to abide by
my Septuagint and my Vulgate. The Septuagint
renders it yai i-rt^^'liy i-rt m^ ^v^clq Tr,q TTUKi^i;, and the Vul-*
gate saith, et impingehat in ostia portce, and he hiui
himself or bedashed himself agaiiist the posts of the gate,
Munster (20) pretends indeed that the Latin interpre-*
ter first wrote, et pingebat in ostia poi'tce, and that it
was afterwards changed into impingebat ; but though
this ingenious conjecture hath been adopted by able
critics, yet it seems to me futile, because on the one
hand the Vulgate evidently follows the Septuagint, and
on the other,' l)ecause the Latin interpreter would have
contradicted himself, collabebatur inter inanus eormn, et
pingebat in ostia portw, if he fell into their hands how
could he write, or scratch with his fingers on the gate
or the door ? Nor is it necessary with the celebrated

Lewis

(19) Apuleius Apol. pro sc ipso prima. (20) Munstcrus in h. I
in cviticis magnis. — See Bayle. Achish. Rem. C.

DmicTj supposed 3Iadness, SGI

I^iewls Capel (21) to suppose the chani^e of a Iclter,
and tG saj tkat the Septu.agint reads tajuloph^ instead
■cif .vajdau. Tiie \^erl> tava .signifies to f)U7rL\ to make
an wiipression, or some print "with the hand, or an in-
striam-ent, au'd to shake, and make the IxkI}^ tremble
where tlie imi5;k is imprinted- David was \i()lentiy
hiiTt against the ].n)sts of tlie gate, so that marks ^^'€re
left in his flesh. Tiiis signification of the verb is
agix^eable to tiie Cliaidean langiiage, in vi hich k'2-a
signifies to tremble, to shiver, and in the Arabic,
w-here the 5ame root signifies to be troubled orastojiish-

4. King Achish uses another word, which inoilern
translations render JhoL inudmaiu Lo^ you see die man
is mad. Have I sii&ed of madvien, and so on. TheSep-
liiagint, which I follow step by step, and the authfjrs
of wJiich understood ilebrcw I>ettei' than we^ translates
it, acpw ./Ftri a>La £T;}.;7'i;y m\d SO on : Why have ysou
iftojig^iit this maja ? Do j-oti not see that he is iitiaeked,
with .ast. .*?pitlepsy ? Plave 1 need of epilepiks, that yon-
hare .broitgiiitkim Vofail inHoconvulswns inm3'|>«-esenx?e?
This sangie testimony of llie Septuagiut ought to de-
termine tliis qviestion.

•S. M J sacond sclass of arguments Is taken fi*oin the
scope of the pla^ie, aiKl I think, even supposing the
origin-xd tesrms were :as favourable to ih<i idea of folly
or madi-kess as they are to thxit of an epilepsy-^ yet s\e
should lie more inclined t^ Hie latter sense than t© the
fomner,

i. First, If there be some examples of persoTiS
irighted into fo^ly or madness, thes*e are mos-eof p*i?r-
50T1S terrified into an ^'pilcpsj. Among the various
causes of this sickness, the author of a book on the
:snbject, supiKjsed to be ITi].')jocrntes {9J2\ halh ^wcn
-^sudden frig^it as lone. It w? uid be neeilless to muldply
proofs u^]ie« 3. sorronvial exj>erieinice <iailj gives us :so

many'

JTSft) L. C;.f)e7lur: crrticf^ sacE&libro. i\\ cap. 5. S--»'i5-.
^■2S-} Hipjjorratts 2-s^ <;j«^ v&vcv. T. ii. S. xi. pa^c, S?>Ck

368 David's supposed Madness,

many ! but I recollect one instance of tlie zeal of StBar-
nard (23), which deserves to be related, I do not say tor
be aj>plavided. William the Xth Duke of Aquitain, and
Count of Thoulouse, declared himself against Innocent
the lid in favour of Peter de Leon, an anti-pope, who
had taken the name of Anacletus the lid. The Duke
had driven the Bishops of Poic tiers, and of Limoges,
from their sees. St Barnard was sent into Guienne
to engage him to reconcile himself to the holy see,
and to re-establish the two bishops, but he could not
prevail with him to be reconciled to the bishop of
Poictiers. While they were talking at the church
gate, St Barnard went up to the altar and said mass.
Having consecrated the host, and pronounced the be-
nediction on the people, he took the body of the Lord
in a patinc, and going out with a countenance on fire,
and with eyes in a flame, he addressed with a threat-
ning air these terrible words to the Duke : " W^e have
intreated you, but you have despised us. In a former
interview a great number of the servants of God be-
sought you, and you treated them with contempt. Be-
hold, now the Son of the Virgin comes to you, the
head and lord of the church you persecute. Behold
your judge, at whose name every knee in heaven, earth,
and hell, bow. Behold the avenger of your crimes,
into whose hand, sooner or later, your stubborn soul
shall fall. Flave you the hardiness to despise him ?
And will you contemn the master as you have done

the

(23) Vita Sancti Bernardi. lib. ii. cap. 6. n. S8. Rogavimus te^
et sprevisti nos, supplicavit tibi in altero, quamjam tecum habiiimus,
conventu servorum Dei ante te adunata multitude, et contempsisti.
Ecce ad te processit filius virginis, qui est caput et Dominus eccle-
siae, quam tu persequeris. Adest Judex tuus, in cujus nomine
omne genu curvatur caelestium, terrestrium et infernorum. Adest
vindox tuus, in ciijus manu ilia anima tua deveniet, Nunquid et
ipsum sperncs ? Nunquid et ipsum sicut servos ejus contemnes ?

Ei'jvatus a militibus, rursum in faciem ruit, nee qiiippiam alieni
loquens, aut intendeiis in aliquem, salmis in harbam deflucntibuSj
cum profundis efflatis gemitibus, epilepticus videbatur.

David's supposed Madness, 369

the servants ?" The spectators were all dissolved in
tears> and the count himself, unable to bear the sight
of the abbot, who addressed him with so much vehe-
mence, and who held up to him all the while the body
of the Lord, fell, all shaking and trembling, to the earth.
Being raised up by his soldiers, he fell back again,
and lay on his face, saying nothing and looking at no-
body, but uttering deep groans, and letting his spittle
fall down on his beard, and discovering all the signs
of a person convulsed in an epilepsy. St Barnard ap-
proached, pushed him with his foot, commanded him
to rise, and to stand up and hear the decree of God,
" The bishop of Poictiers, whom you have driven
from his church, is here ; go and reconcile yourself to
him ; and by giving him a holy kiss of peace become
friendly, and reconduct him yourself to his see. Sa-
tisfy the God you have offended, render him the glory
due to his name, and recal all your divided subjects
into the unity of faith and love. Submit yourself to
pope Innocent ; and as all the church obeys him, re-
sign yourself to this eminent pontiff chosen by God
himself. At these words the count ran to the bishop,
gave him the kiss of peace, and re-established him in
his see."

2. I return, sir, from this digression, which is not
quite foreign to my subject, to observe^ in the second
place, that the sacred historian attributes to David
the three characteristical marks of the falling sickness,
falling, convulsion, and frotliing : Falling, for it is said
he fell into the hands of the omcers of the king ; con-
vulsion, for he hurt himself against the posts of ike gate:
miA frothing, for he let fall bis spittle upon /lis heard.
These are symptoms, which Isidore of Seville gives of
an epilepsy (24), cujus tanta vis est, ut homo valens con-
cidat, spumetque. We may see the cause, or at least

(24.) Isidor, Hispaliensis originnm lib. iii. cap. 7- Dc chronicis
morbis, voce Epilepsia, p. 33. Col. A. lit c. Hippocrat. ut supra.

Vol. IV. A a what

870 David's supposed Aladness.

what physicians say of it, in the work of Hippocrates
just now quoted, in the posthumous works of Mr
, Manjot, and in all treatises of pathological physic.
The manner in wjiieh Hippocrates explains the symp-
tom of froth seems very natural^ a.'^^ov It ck rov sro/Aalo^,
&c. The froth, that comes out of the mouth, proceeds
. from the lungs, which, not receiving any fresh air^
throw up little bubbles^ like those of a dying man.

3. The horror of king Achish concerning the
condition of David, is a third reason, which confirms
our opinion. You see, said this prince to his officers,
this manis epilepiic^ shallsuch a man come i?ilo my house.
And he drove him away, as it is said in the title of the
thirty-fourth psalm. According to the common opi-
nion, David feigned himself a natural, a fool, not a
madman : he did actions of imbecility, and silliness,
not of madness and fury. Now the ancients, far from
having any aversion to this sort of fools, kept them
in their palaces to make diversion. Tarqidn the proud
kept Lucius Junius Brutus in his family less as a re-
Icition, of whom he meant to take care, than as a fool
to please his children by absurd discourses and ridi-
culous actions. Anacharsis, who lived about three
hundred years after David, could not bear this custom
of the Greeks. This wise Scythian said, " Man was a
thing too serious to be destined to a usage so ridicu-
lous (25)." Seneca in one of his letters to Lucilius
speaks of a female fool, whom his wife had left him
for a legacy, and who had suddenly lost her sight (26).
She did not know she was blind, and she was always
asking to be let out of a house where she could see
nothing. Seneca says, that he had a great dislike to
this kind of singularities ; that if ever he should take
it into his head to divert himself with a fool, he need
not go far in search of one, that he would make a fool
of himself: and he agreeably compares mankind with
their (Jefects to Harpasta the fool of his wife. Every

body

(25) Apud Eustathium 'u\ Homerum. (2(5) Si-npca. Epist. 30.

David's si/pposed Madness. 57 i

"bocly knows, adds this philosopher (27), ambition is
not my vice, but we cannot live otherwise at Rome.
I dislike luxury, but to live at a great expence is es-
sential to living' in this great city ; and so on. Pliny
the younger, writing to one of his friends complained
of having misspent his time at an elegant supper
through the impertinence of these fools, who inter-
rupted conversation : he says, that every one had his
own whim ; that he had no relish for such absurdities ;
but that some complaisance was necessary to the taste
of our acquaintances.

It was not the same with madmen, and particularly
epileptics. Every body earefuHy avoided them, and
thought, to meet them was a bad omen. Dion Gassius
says, the Roman senate always broke up, when any
one of them happened to be taken with an epilepsy,
for which reason it was called morbus comitialis, (28),
witness these verses of Serenus Sammonicus :

Est subiti species m^orbi, cui nomen ab illo est.
Quod fieri nobis suffragia justa recusat :
Sa^pe etenim membris acri languore caducis.
Consilium populi labes horrenda diremit.

Pliny the elder, (20), who relates the same thing,
informs us of another custom, that was, to spit at the
sight of an epileptic : Despuimus comitiales morbos,
hoc est, contagia regerimus ; simili modo et fascina-
tiones repercutimus, dextraeque clauditatis accursum.
There was then as much superstition in this custom
as aversion to the illness. Accordingly Theophrastes
hath not forgotten, in his character of a superstitious
man, to represent him seized with horror, and spitting
at meeting a madman, or an epileptic (30). This
was so common, and so much confined to an epilepsy,

2 that

(27) Hoc, quod in ilia videmus, omnibus nobis accidcrc liqucat tibi.
~-Pli;i. Ep. lib. ix. 17. (28) Dio Cassius. lib. 37.

(29) Plin. lib. xxviii. cap. 4. (30) Theophrastes Charact.

872 David's supposed Madness,

that it was frequently called the sickness to he spitted at;
Thus Plautus, in the comedy of the Captives, ^vliere
Tyndarus, to prevent Flegio from staying with Aris-
tophontes, accuses him of being subject to the illness
that is spit at (31).

In this custom of spitting at the sight of an epilep-
tic, I think I have formed a very probable conjecture
on another famous pa; safre of scripture ; but, Sir, I
shall do myself the honour to treat of this in a fu-
ture letter to you. At t>resent, 1 avail myself ol this
custom to explain why Achish discovered so m\ic\\ in-
dignation against his courtiers, and so much disdain
for David, and why he drove him so quickly from his
palace.

4. In fine, I think, it is easy to see in the thanks-
giving psalms, which David composed after he had es-
caped this imminent danger, several indications of the
nature of the illness that had seized him so suddenly.
It is agreed that he composed the thirty-fourth and
the fifty-sixth on this occasion, as the titles assure us,
and to them I add the thirty-first and the hundred
and sixteenth, concerning which 1 beg leave to make
two remarks.

First, that the hundred and sixteenth hath so much
connection with the fitty-sixth, and the thirty-first
with the hundred and sixteenth, that it is very evi-
dent these three psalms were composed at the same
time, and in view of the same deliverance ; v;ith his
difference however, that in the fifty-sixth David con-
fines himself to the malignity of his enemies, to the
punishment they might expect, and to his own confi-
dence in God, who engaged him to despise all their
efforts ; whereas in the thirty-first he expresses more
clearly the terror which had been excited in iiim by
the conversation of Achish and his ofiicerb, and the
prayers which he had addressed to the Lord in his

distress.

(31) Plaut. Capt, Act. iii. Sc€n. 4. ver. 15 j &c. morbus qui in-
^^^utatur.

David's supposed Madness. 373

distress. In the hundred and sixteenth he attends
more to the success of these prayers, and to the gra-
titude he felt for deliverance from his great danger,
and to the profound impression which his late situa-
tion had made on his mind. A bare parallel of these
three hymns discovers a great resemblance both in
sentiment and expression. Compare Psal. Ivi. verses
5, 9, 1 1, 12, 13, 14 — with cxvi. 8, 12, IS, 17, 14, 18,
8, 9 — and cxvi. 1, 2, 3, 11, 16 — with xxxi. 23, 24,
3, 10, i\, 23, 17.

The second observation I make on the thirty-first
and hundred and sixteenth psalm is, that they per-
fectly agree with the occasion of the two other psalms,
and that some passages seem to refer to the supposed
epileptic fit. The cause is remarked Psalm xx.si.
10, 11, 14. The effects and consequences are spoken
of in the same Psalm, ver. 12, 13. The condition to
which the illness had reduced David is described
Psalm cxvi. 11. — Psalm xxxi. 23, (2^ in the English
version) / said in my haste, I am ad off from before thine
eyes. All men are liars. However the Hebrew word
rendered in my haste be translated, either with the Sep-
tuagint in my ecsiacy, or with Synmiachus in my duoon
or jfainiing Jit, or with the old Italian version, in my
great dread, or with St Jerom in my stupefaction (32),
either of the senses suji-poses and confirms my opinion.
Suidas explains the word testacy, which the Septna-
gint uses here by ^xviackj^/ou kcu ccKhzic^'ri!:. This last word
is the same as that in the title of the thirty-fourth
psalm, where David is said to liave dunged counte-
nance, for so I think it should be translated.

In regard to the two psahiis befoie mentioned,
w^hich were always undert-t(.od to be composed on this
occasion, they both of them furnish a great deal to
establish our opinion.

In the fifty-sixth psalm, there is a verse, the seventh
J mean, which modern interpreters seem not to have

v/ell

(32) Hierom, in Epist. 135.

371* David's supposed Madness,

well understood. David there, speaking of his ene-
mies, saith, according to our version,>iS7z<://Z ihei/ escape
hy iniquity ? In thine anger castdoivn the people, O God.
I think the words may be rendered, without violence
to the original, O Go(/, because of their iniquity spue
them out, and cast dorm the people in thine anger (33) ;
because the Hebrew word palleth, which in the conju-
g-ation kal signifies to escape, when it is in the conju-
f!;ai\onpiel signifies to vomit, to I'eject ; so the celebrated
Rabbi David Kimclii says. Indited the Chaidee para-
phrast (34) uses it in two places in this sense. Lev.
xviii. 28, 25. " The land itself vomiteth out her inha-
bitants—That the land spue not you out also, as it spued
out the nations before you." Jon. ii. 10. " The fish vo-
mited cut Jonah." Tliis word is used in the Talmud,
which forbids a disciple ever to vomit in the presence
of his master ; for, according to this fiabinnical code of
law, he who spits before his master, is worthy of death.
According to Mr d'Arvieux (S5 ), the Arabians reli-
giously observe this custom to this day. Among them
no man ever spits before his superior, it would be con^
sidered a:: treating them with disrespect and contempt.
The Chaidee paraphrast understocd this psalm in this
sense, and rendered the passage thus. Because of the
falsehood that is in th^r hands, spit them, or vomit them
out. Now, sir, would it be improper to apply this
verse to my ex^^lication, and to affirm, that David here
manifestly alludes to two of the syn^ptcms of an epi-
lepsy, which he himself h.id lately experienced ? This
holy man prays to God that his enemies might bo
treated in a manner vhich had some resemblance to
the illness they had caused him ; that as he had froth-
ed and cast out his spittle, so God would spit or vomit
them out of his mouth ; and as he fell to the ground
through their hands, so they might be degraded and
cast out. The former image is used by an inspired -

writer,

(33) Hair.mond's Annotations on Psal. Ivi. 7- (34) Mpg.

Lex. Ch'dkkac Tl.>!m. et Rabbinicum Biixtorf. in verb. ixiKefh.
(35) La Roqiie Voyage dans la Palestine, p. 110.

David's supposed Madness, SIS

wt-iter, Rev. iii. 16. " Because thou art luke-warm, I
will spue thee out of my mouth."

PcrhapSy sir, you will tliink another observation
which I am ^oing to make^ not sufficienty solid. Da-
vid saith, while he is celebrating the deliverance God
hath granted him, Psal. xxxiv. 20. that " the Lord
keepeth all the bones of the righteous man, not one of
them is broken." It is not worth while to refute the
Jews on this article, for they quote these words in
proof of a little bone, which they call lifz, and which
they place in the form of a small almond at the bottom
of the back bone. They pretend that Da^/id had this
bone in view; that nothing, neither fire, nor water, nor
time, can destroy it, and that it is the germ of the re-
surrection of the body. Probably it was from this
Jewish tradition that Peter Lombard (36), the master
of the sentences, derived his little piece of flesh, which
every man inherits from the fiesh of Adam, and which
rendei's us all corrupt, and on account of which we are
called the children of Adam. Much less will I pre-
tend to dispute the application which St John makes
of this oracle to our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom it was
both predicted and prefigured, that not one of his bones
should be broken, chap. xix. 36'. Exod. xii. 46. Numb.
ixi 12. Nothing hinders our taking this verse in its
literal sense. David here blesses his God for watch-
ing so marvellously to prevent him, that in spite of hi^
violent epileptic fit, and of the fall, that might havf?
broke all his bones, especially as he was so hurt by fall-
ing against the posts of the gate, as to receive marki>
or scars in his flesh, yet not one of his bones was
broken.

For the rest, if any one should think proper to take
occasion, from this one convulsion fit, to dispute the
inspiration of the excellent psalms of David, or only
to diminish our esteem for the works or the person

of

(36) Pet. Lomb. lib. ii. Distinct. SO. N. p. m. 218. Transmi.-it,
adam mcHlkum quid de substantia sua ui ccrpore (?.ilionim^ quajido eos
ni-ocreavit, &:c..

S76 David's supposed Madness.

of this prince, the following" considerations may set
aside such a friv^olous objection :

1. As soon as this malady is over, the mind recovers
its freedom and firmness, aiid is presently as well as
before.

2. Even supposing frequent attacks to enfeeble the
mind, yet this would not affect David, for he had only
one fit.

3. Great men have been subject to this illness, but
they have not been the less esteemed on that account :
as for example a Julius Csesar ^^7), who was held by
his army in more than admiration ; Plotinus too, that
celebrated Platonic philosopher, to whom, after his
deatli, altars were erected in divers places.

4. Far from deriving from my explication a conse-
quence so unreasonable, we ought, on the contrary,
naturally to conclude, that there is a good and wise
providence, which knows how to deliver its children by
means unthought of, and even when their ruin seems
certain. A christian, now afflicted with this sad disorder,
may find in our sentiment a solid ground of consolation.
The man after God's own heart had an epileptic fit ;
but he was not the less esteemed of God, and so a
christian may reason, believing himself to be beloved of
God, and an heir of his kingdom, though afflicted all
h?- days with this malady, provided he imitate the zeal
and ;>iety cf David. I submit, sir, all my conjectures
to the penetration of your judgment, and I have the
honour to be, with all imaginable respect,

Sir,

Your most humble and most obedient servant,

noUcrdam, DUMONT.

September'^, 1725. *

(37) Plutarch in Csesare. T. i. f. 715. Suidas in voce^

THE END OF THE FOURTH VOLUME,

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